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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639715">Dangan Ronpa 54/1: Hope Springs Eternal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaleWrites/pseuds/GaleWrites'>GaleWrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Are We The Baddies?, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, OC Ultimates, Post-Canon, Reader-Interactive, Submit Your Own Ultimate, best laid plans, crossposted to ff.net, mystery mastermind, submit your own</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:54:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,738</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639715</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaleWrites/pseuds/GaleWrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>To truly inspire hope, we at the Danganronpa Company have decided to enter a new compassionate era of casting while still continuing the killing games our audiences expect from us. Thanks to our mainstay, the Neo World program, audiences can be assured that no cast members are harmed during the production. Tune in and see the fireworks! Submit Your Own Ultimate: Fully cast! (16/16)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harukawa Maki &amp; Saihara Shuichi &amp; Yumeno Himiko, Saihara Shuichi &amp; Harukawa Maki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Negotiations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Since you insist on continuing with your plans to revive the franchise, my clients have prepared a list of demands. They know very well that you will not legally be allowed to proceed unless they drop their suit against you, and they are not afraid to prolong that for years if you are unwilling to cooperate.”  The speaker, a dark haired woman in a perfectly tailored black suit, adjusted her glasses and eyed the assembled executives. “It would be in everyone’s best interests if you heard them out and we could open negotiations.”</p><p>“Negotiations?” One of the executives, a blonde man who looked to be in his mid thirties, asked in outrage. “This sounds more like blackmail than negotiations.”</p><p>“Don’t be stupid, Nezumi.” One of his colleagues, a sensible looking woman seated opposite him, replied. “This is our best chance, and you know it. The ratings for the last season’s finale were sky high, it would be ridiculous not to at least pretend to ride that wave. Let’s hear them out.”</p><p>“Ms. Laurent is right.” The man at the head of the table, who seemed to be in charge of the proceedings, asserted. The sensible woman smirked and the blonde sighed. “The best way forward is to cooperate, at least for now. Ms. Nakamura, go ahead. Let's hear the demands.”</p><p>The lawyer opened the letter she was holding and adjusted her glasses again. “The demands are as follows. First, adapt the characterization process to be reversible.”</p><p>“Impossible.” Nezumi sneered.</p><p>The lawyer ignored him. “Second, death must not be permanent for any member of the cast.”</p><p>“How exactly do they expect us to learn to resurrect the dead?” Ms. Laurent murmured worriedly.</p><p>Ms. Nakamura flashed her an almost pitying smile and the tiniest of shrugs. “Third, that those involved get fair pay, benefits, and free counseling once the show is over.”</p><p>“That is easily enough done.” The man who seemed to be in charge replied.</p><p>“Fourth, no audience input on matters such as who is allowed to live, characterization details, or who should be involved in murders. Audience input is acceptable on less personal things such as the layout of the setting, non-murder related twists, and similar polls are still acceptable. Specific details are laid out in the document under the heading ‘Audience Participation’, I’ll make sure your lawyers get it.”</p><p>“Ugh, that’s going to kill ratings.” Another executive groaned</p><p>“Fifth, that one third of all profits from anything associated with the Danganronpa brand is diverted to the survivors of previous seasons and the participants in future seasons. This may include funds allocated to pay and benefits, so long as no more than half of the diverted profits are dedicated to it. This percentage will change as survivors from previous seasons age and die, based on how many of them remain compared to living participants of seasons to come. The details of that algorithm are also laid out in the document.”</p><p>A previously silent executive with a ponytail and a slightly rumpled suit whistled. “That’s a biggie. Accounting is not going to like that.”</p><p>“Sixth, in regards to branded products, anything that specifically uses the likeness, name, title, or aesthetic of specific participants must be okayed by the participants in question. Merchandise using dead former participants must be okayed by survivors of the season or seasons they appeared in.”</p><p>Everyone around the table shifted and looked at each other. “What about seasons where no one’s left alive?” Someone finally asked.</p><p>“That…” The lawyer checked her notes. “Is open to negotiation. But I can already tell you the answer isn’t going to be ‘do whatever you like’.”</p><p>Nezumi groaned. Most of the others traded worried glances.</p><p>The lawyer ignored this tension and continued. “Seventh, you will get consent from your cast post characterization. You may wipe their memory of the event afterward, but you must have documented consent from everyone.”</p><p>There were a few shrugs. Compared to some of the other demands, this one was fairly minor.</p><p>“Eighth, in all official documentaries, retrospectives, and the Official Danganronpa Fan Experience, acknowledgement must be given to the exploitation of cast members. In the case of the latter, in addition to the exhibition change, there must be a monument constructed to the dead.”</p><p>“That’s not going to be popular…” Someone muttered. Once again, the lawyer ignored them.</p><p>“Ninth, the abduction of those chosen to be cast members must cease. They must be informed and given the opportunity to say their goodbyes and provided with free legal assistance to write a will, if they so choose.”</p><p>“That one might actually *save* us some money.” The man in the ponytail pointed out with a wry smile</p><p>“And finally, tenth, under no circumstances is any character ever to be made into an avatar of the audience or the studio. Other than the implantation of false memories, there absolutely cannot be any hypnosis or mind control of sentient beings. This does include robotic members of the cast, such as the much abused K1-B0 from the most recent season. Provisions are included for consensual masterminds who have not been put through the characterization process.”</p><p>Nezumi swore under his breath. Everyone looked at each other for a long moment. Horror and defiance seemed to be the dominant mood, but Ms. Nakamura seemed unbothered by the obvious resistance. It took several minutes before the man in charge finally spoke. “Of course, you’ll understand that we’ll have to negotiate. Not all of these are even possible. We cannot resurrect the dead, for instance. Our legal team will be in contact to start the official negotiations.”</p><p>The lawyer nodded, the hint of a smirk on her face. “Of course. I have printed out a copy of our full demands for you to pass on to them. As mentioned, the full and specific details of these demands is laid out.” She removed a paperclipped stack of papers from her briefcase and placed it on the table. “If you have any further questions, you know where to reach me.”</p><p>Ms. Nakamura turned and left the room, which exploded into argument the minute she was out of earshot.</p><p>“Whose fucking brilliant idea was it to create the Ultimate Lawyer?” Someone growled. “At this rate she’s going to destroy us.”</p><p>“Richard Mallory has already been fired.” Ms. Laurent replied. “And we now have no choice but to deal with her, since she survived her season.”</p><p>“I hope you mean out of a cannon.” Nezumi grumbled. “Laurent, you know we’re done. There’s no way we can do all of that.”</p><p>“I… had a thought about that.” She replied cautiously. “We’ll have to talk to the engineers and the IT folks, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t work.”</p><p>“A thought?” The man in charge replied eagerly. “Well, don’t draw it out, tell us.”</p><p>“Perhaps…” Naomi Laurent took a deep breath. “Perhaps it’s time to use the Neo World program as more than just a cheap gimmick.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Integration Initiative</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nakamura regroups with Shuichi, Maki, Himiko, and other surviving Ultimates to discuss the best way to move forward</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The headquarters of the Integration Initiative was a nice, professional looking building on the outside, but a surprisingly homey, comforting space within. Apart from the offices taking up most of the first floor, it was largely taken up with a somewhat dormlike setup, with comfortable common areas and plenty of windows. It was one of these common areas, a living room set up with couches and chairs set up in a circle, that the main members of the Personhood movement met up now. </p><p> </p><p>Adele Nakamura, Ultimate Lawyer and survivor of season 49, perched on a chair holding a large envelope, somehow looking as professional as ever despite her excited grin and blue jeans. Next to her sat Carlos Hernandez, a brown skinned man in his late thirties and one of the survivors of season 35. He was one of the oldest survivors who hadn’t chosen to try to hide from the spotlight, and the founder of Integration Initiative. He’d made it his mission to help survivors since he’d made his fortune selling a memoir of his own season. In recent years, he'd thrown the full support of the initiative behind the push for rights and personhood for former and future 'cast members'.</p><p>Across from him sat Jonas Becker, a tan man with blonde hair and big blue eyes, sprawled as always across his chair in an unlikely fashion. Only a few years younger than Carlos and one of the survivors of season 38 he was another prominent face for survivors and one of the few who’d actually chosen to make a living with his given Ultimate Talent. He’d spent years doing a one man acrobatic comedy show, banking on his reputation as the ultimate Circus Performer. He’d only gotten involved in the Initiative after the spectacular events of the most recent season, and Carlos still hadn’t entirely forgiven him for that.</p><p>Next to him sat Hikari, another survivor of season 38. Despite having very publicly been at each others’ throats for most of their season, they’d lived together for almost a decade. No one entirely understood how a woman so opposed to speaking about her experiences in the show or even referencing her given Talent managed to cohabitate with Jonas. It was commonly speculated amongst the ‘fandom’ that the short haired Japanese woman was dating him, but all who knew her knew this to be laughable, as she had about as much interest in men as he had in women-none.</p><p>Directly across from Nakamura on a comfortable sofa sat the trio who’d caused so much fuss. Himiko, now almost a foot taller but still clad in her oversized pointy hat, Shuichi, with slightly longer hair, and Maki on his other side, her hair now cropped short. The three of them still lived in the building, finding it far more comfortable than venturing out into a world where they were still incredibly controversial celebrities.</p><p>Nakamura glanced at her watch and over at the doorway. “Is it just us?” She asked Carlos. “I’d like to get started soon.”</p><p>He checked his phone and nodded. “Yeah, Lei’s still not back and Yume’s manning the front just in case. We can go ahead.”</p><p>Nakamura nodded and grinned. “Okay, good. I have the official response from the Company. Their legal team sent it to my office earlier today. I looked it over earlier.” Judging by the smug look on her face, everyone in the room started to smile as well.</p><p>“So, they’re going to work with us?” Shuichi asked quietly. </p><p>She nodded. “Other than some quibbles on the monetary side of things, they’ve agreed to all of our demands. Even better, they have a plan for making it happen.”</p><p>“Okay but… how exactly are they going to do all that? I know the point was to aim for the sky and all, but how are they gonna actually manage it?” Jonas asked with a frown.</p><p>“They’ve decided to film the entire season from within the Neo World program.” Nakamura replied. “It’ll be like a video game. No one really dies, memories can be dealt with any way they choose once they wake up.”</p><p>“But doesn’t that program turn everyone into cute little sprites?” Himiko asked.</p><p>“And dying in that game still killed Miu…” Shuichi sounded troubled</p><p>“Apparently there is the option of utilizing realistic graphics and expanding the setting to accomodate an entire killing game.” Nakamura shrugged. “And they’re also capable of putting a buffer in to prevent in game deaths from automatically killing the person in real life.”</p><p>“Why the hell haven’t they used that before, then?” Maki demanded</p><p>“Probably because it was easier to stick to the formula.” Jonas sneered. “The Company hasn’t generally been big on change. Their formula has been making them money for decades, after all.”</p><p>Hikari sighed. “And everyone knows the last time they tried for fewer deaths, ratings dropped. The two *probably* weren’t connected, but they used it as an excuse to get even more brutal. It used to be unheard of for fewer than five people to escape, after all. Nowadays you were lucky to survive with the three of you.”</p><p>“That’s…” Shuichi went pale.</p><p>“That’s fucked up.” Carlos replied flatly. “But for now lets focus on the good stuff. Adele, they’re using the Neo World program?”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded and looked back down at the document in her hands. “Apparently they’re using that program alone to fulfil most of our demands that don’t have to do with the profits. I guess it’s convenient. They can put the buffer in to prevent true death, including frequent ‘backups’ of the participants. They can use that buffer to select whether the original personality or the created one ‘wakes up’, or if the two decide to try to blend into one new person…. There’s a lot of details of their pitch for the specifications for how all this will work…”</p><p>Hikari held out her hand with a sigh. “Pass that to me. I’ll translate it.”</p><p>Jonas looked surprised for a moment, but it quickly smoothed out into a smile. “Thanks, Hikari.”</p><p>Nakamura handed it over with a small grateful smile. “I appreciate that, Hikari. I’ll leave that bit to you, you can check through it for anything hairy I might’ve missed. As for the rest of this…” She flips through the remaining pages with a satisfied expression. “Pensions and benefits have been approved, there’s a check here for each of us I’ll hand out later. They sent over plans for a memorial at the museum… And they’ve invited us to choose a few people to participate in the creation of the upcoming season to supervise and be an advocate for the new ‘class’.” </p><p>She looks around at all of them. “Hikari, you’ve been specifically invited, for obvious reasons. As has Jonas, presumably for his showmanship sensibilities, and… Shuichi.”</p><p>“... Me?” Shuichi tensed up a bit. </p><p>Maki quietly clasped his hand and glared at Nakamura. “Why would they want him? He doesn’t know anything about technology or storytelling or psychology.”</p><p>“Thanks, Maki.” Shuichi grumbled weakly</p><p>“Oh, you know what I mean.” Maki told him with an exasperated smile.</p><p>“She’s right, you know.” Himiko piped up with a glare of her own. “This sounds like a trap to me. They hate all three of us over there.”</p><p>“You may be right.” Nakamura admitted, looking over her glasses at the three of them. “I doubt they’ve forgiven any of us. But… They do say they want him as a consultant for the murders. It’s not an unreasonable request to ask the only Ultimate Detective who hasn’t died or vanished to do so, especially since you are also so involved in the advocacy efforts.”</p><p>“And it is only an invitation.” Carlos interjected, smiling reassuringly at all of them. “You’re not obligated to do anything. You have every right to stay away from all that.”</p><p>Shuichi sighed, and Maki scowled at him “Don’t even think about it.” She told him flatly</p><p>He shook his head. “I have to. If there’s a chance I could actually help them…”</p><p>“You really have to stop being so self sacrificing.” Maki replied quietly “Be selfish for once?”</p><p>“You know I can’t” Shuichi replied, while the others pretended not to hear the clearly private conversation. He turned back to Nakamura. “I’ll do it.”</p><p>“Fine, but I’m coming.” Maki’s tone and expression made it clear she would not let anyone argue.”</p><p>Nakamura nodded. “Alright. Good. I’ll send over our counter offer in the morning. The haggling over the money will probably take a while yet, but I’m guessing they’ll want to start working on the new season as soon as everything is finalized. Expect to get started by the end of the month, I’d guess?”</p><p>“Hang on there. They are going to *pay* us, right?” Jonas demanded. “On top of the pension? I don’t work for free.”</p><p>“Oh, yes.” Nakamura replied, adjusting her glasses. “There are offer letters for each of you specifically invited. I suggest you haggle a bit, get as much as you can” She produces three envelopes and sets them on the table in front of her. “It says that salaries for any of the others are negotiable. Maki, I expect with your skill set they’ll likely pay you quite well.”</p><p>Maki scoffed. “I’m not in it for the money.”</p><p>“Take it anyway.” Carlos suggested. “Take everything you can get from them. Don’t give them anything for free. They’ve taken too much already.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s right, Maki.” Himiko smiled grimly at her. “You don’t want them thinking they can just use you. Make them pay.”</p><p>Maki nodded. “You have a point. Alright.”</p><p>Nakamura looked around at everyone. “Any more questions?”</p><p>Everyone looked at each other and shook their heads. “No, I think that’s everything for now, thank you Adele.” Carlos told her with a smile.</p><p>“Alright, I’ll send all this in in the morning, then. Thank you all for your time.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Employee Onboarding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shuichi, Maki, and Hikari officially join Team Dangan Ronpa</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Team Dangan Ronpa’s offices were surprisingly normal, considering what happened within. There was of course a more glamorous office area for the big shots and VIP guests to interact, but most of their main building was just standard offices. Some floors even had cubical farms. Due’s office, on the twenty seventh floor, looked out onto one. On a normal season, the Company’s programmers didn’t have much to do. There might be a virtual reality segment they had to plan for, and they worked closely with the robotics department to make sure Monokuma and any other robots ran smoothly. But their role was generally mostly support. This season, however, every single programmer was suddenly crucial. They’d never done an entire season within the virtual reality program, and it was going to be a lot of work to not only create the entire game within it, but rewrite the relevant parameters to keep everyone inside safe.</p><p>Due wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about any of this. On the one hand, he was glad they were making the transition to safer, less traumatic seasons. He liked the kids, and hated having to watch them all die every year. Knowing that his department was in charge of making that happen was a point of pride for him, despite what some of the other department heads thought of the change.</p><p>On the other hand, it was a lot to ask of his relatively small programming crew. They’d lost a lot of people during the hiatus, between the layoffs and those who quit because they assumed they’d be next. His department had never been large, and he was now working with a skeleton crew even compared to that relatively small number. He’d been given the okay to hire more people, but that meant taking the time to train them and there was a balance to be found of how many people he could hire before it slowed them down more than it helped.</p><p>There was also the problem of being the obvious scapegoat if things went wrong. He had a reputation for being kind of lackadaisical in regard to his department, but it hadn’t ever mattered before. This year though, if anything went wrong, his reputation would work against him in a big way. Due knew very well they would not have chosen to put him in charge of anything this important if they thought they’d had another choice. Naomi had sounded desperate when she’d suggested it in that fateful meeting. For now, all he could do was keep his head down and try to run things as smoothly as possible.</p><p>His people had been working full tilt on the new season for almost a month when the ‘consultants’ finally showed up. He’d been informed that they were being put through orientation and negotiating a consultant contract for most of that time, but he had no idea how much they would actually know when they walked through his office door. He just had to prepare for whatever it would be and go from there.</p><p>As he sat in his office on the day they were finally supposed to show up, he toyed with his ponytail nervously, eyeing the folders he’d set out for each of them and trying to play it cool. He’d never actually met with any of the survivors (other than Nakamura, who he’d met at the meeting where she delivered their demands but hadn’t actually spoken to). His crew had worked on the technology that implanted their memories, he’d seen them on TV, but he had no idea what they would be like to work with. Would they be normal people, as they claimed? Would they have grown and changed in their time after the games? Would they be stuck in the archetypes they’d been programmed to be? He wanted to do right by them, but the thought of working with one note characters and knowing that it was partially his fault they were like that was enough to turn his stomach.</p><p>He tried to set that worry aside as he saw the three of them approach. He had to be professional, set the tone for their interactions. He had to not let the prospect of facing someone who was better at his job than he would ever be and a literal assassin who had every reason in the world to hate him get to him. </p><p>Due smiled at the three of them as they stepped into his office. “Welcome, all three of you. Would you like water or coffee?” He gestured at his coffee maker perched on top of his minifridge.</p><p>“I’ll take a coffee.” Hikari told him, looking him squarely in the eye before stepping over and getting it herself. </p><p>“Will you pass me a water?” Shuichi asked in a slightly uncertain tone. Due felt guilty about it, but it was nice to know that one of them, at least, was nervous too.</p><p>Maki shook her head silently. </p><p>“Alright, great.” Due’s smile felt fake, but he kept it up anyway. “If you’ll all sit down, I have files set up for you with the details of what we have so far.”</p><p>Maki and Shuichi sat down next to each other. Hikari, coffee in one hand, passed Shuichi his water before sitting down on his other side. All three of them opened their folders to flip through.</p><p>“A ski lodge?” Shuichi asked, frowning at the files.  “Won’t you have to make the whole mountain?”</p><p>Due’s smile smoothed out into a more natural one. “They’re going to be stranded in a blizzard. It minimizes sight lines and makes leaving impossible without impassible fences or the like. We’re trying for a bit more of a… Agatha Christie murder mystery vibe than a Hunger Games free for all. It should be less stressful for the participants.”</p><p>Shuichi nodded. Hikari frowned. “What about the staff, though? No ski resort is going to be completely without staff.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that should be in there. The last couple pages?” He frowned. “The Monocubs didn’t play very well last season, but we have replacements that will double as the staff.”</p><p>All three of them turned to that section of the file and stared at it for a minute. “Wow, you’re really desperate for characters you can merchandise that you won’t have to share the profits from, huh?” Maki asked flatly.</p><p>“Well…” Due cleared his throat. “That’s part of it. But we did need a few people on hand as ‘staff’. Monokuma does really well with other characters to riff off of. And it helps immersion.”</p><p>Hikari rolled her eyes. “Sure. So, what exactly can the three of us help with here? I was assuming that Shuichi and Maki, at least, would be sent over to the writing crew.”</p><p>He sighed. “Well… the writing crew isn’t doing much this season. Naomi Laurent made the executive decision to do as little scripting as possible. The writing team is pretty much just responsible for making characters and writing up files and clues and such to be hidden around. That leaves the three of you with me to help… create opportunities for story beats. Maki and Shuichi have the practical knowledge of what environmental factors make it easier or harder to kill, what might motivate different types of people to commit a murder, what sort of weapons should be made available and where… all that sort of thing.”</p><p>Maki frowned. “You know I’ve never actually killed anyone, right?”</p><p>“Sure, but you have the memories of it. We didn’t invent that training, we borrowed the information from actual assassins.” Due smiled nervously. “All that information is still solid.”</p><p>Shuichi put a hand on her shoulder. “Alright, we can do that. But would you tell us more about what you’re doing to protect this cast?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shuichi and Maki grapple with the head of Marketing</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ms. Naomi Laurent was the head of Marketing, and in the vacuum left behind after the death of the previous head writer, she had clawed her way into control of a great deal of the storytelling. The idea to put the whole killing game in the virtual world had been her idea, of course, and considering the move to not script the games, it was easy for her to nose in and insist that marketing should determine what characters be created. She had explained in painstaking detail to everyone, including the useless CEO himself, that this season was crucial to salvage the public image of the Dangan Ronpa Corporation. As such, it was important for every major choice to be made through the lens of marketability. </p><p>It had been child’s play to get Due to fold and let her do as she liked. He didn’t want to be in charge of even as much of this as he was, and everyone knew it. With Shirogane dead due to her own incompetence and much of the senior staff having left for greener pastures, that left only Nezumi to thwart her. In a normal season, as head of the Cinematography Department, he’d answer to almost no one except the writers. This season, however, his whole department was essentially redundant. As a result,  he had been looking for ways to start trouble on a near daily basis. Programming was sick of having to hear from him, nosing into their business the whole time, demanding input on visuals, the angle of view for nearly any possible scene the crew could imagine, prodding them over all manner of fiddly nonsense that did not seem to have any impact at all on the programmers or graphic designers. </p><p>Yet, as desperate as he was to keep Naomi from taking charge, there was simply no argument he could make to assert that his department had more reason to do so than Marketing.</p><p>The only thorn in her side now was the survivor trio who’d been brought in as consultants. She’d been relieved to discover that Hikari had so thoroughly entrenched herself among the programmers that she was paying no attention to anything else, but that left… those two. The ones who’d killed Tsumugi Shirogane. They were children, but they were crafty. She knew she would have to watch them carefully so they didn’t ruin the revival of the single most important piece of media the world had ever known. It had been their foolishness that had brought the show to a halt, their absolute arrogance in assuming their lives were more important than world peace. </p><p>There had been riots when the official cancellation was announced. Buildings burned, property destroyed, even a few deaths. People all over the world needed the outlet of the killing games. In the few years since the last season had aired, tensions were high enough that rumors of war floated for the first time in decades. Naomi did not, of course, believe such ridiculous rumors, believing them to be no more than childish nonsense, but it was truly telling that such things could even be believed. She considered it her duty to bring back the killing game as quickly as possible, to prevent further damage to the peaceful state of the world.</p><p>As such, she made a tactical decision that surprised even her. She invited Shuichi and Maki to her office when it came time for the first round of major decision making. She would have preferred to keep them out entirely, but Naomi was well aware that their cooperation now would make the process much smoother down the road.</p><p>The pair were visibly suspicious when they entered her office. She didn’t blame them. She had sold children’s playsets of the murder scenes of their friends and t-shirts with their faces. She’d sold ad space so that people could be urged to order pizza or go on vacation while watching them fight for their lives. In their shoes, she knew she would hate herself as well. Unfortunately for them, there was no room for personal grudges here.</p><p>“You… invited us?” Shuichi asked, fiddling nervously with a notebook but trying to sound calm.</p><p>“Yes, that’s right. Please, take a seat,” Naomi told them with an easy smile,  setting aside the file she’d been pretending to read when they came in. “We need to make a final decision on this season’s cast. I think it to be in the show’s best interest that you be invited to participate in the selection process.”</p><p>Shuichi looked at her curiously. “Shouldn’t that be up to the...writers?”</p><p>Naomi shook her head. “No, of course not. You know by now that we’re going unscripted, and that there are almost no writers left on staff. We want to ensure that our group this season is particularly… marketable.”</p><p> </p><p>Maki smiled wryly. “So you asked us here, because if we approve your choices, the Institute will back our decision, and there won’t be any dissent from our organization.”</p><p>“Exactly so.” Naomi replied, pleased they’d caught on so fast.</p><p>“That makes sense. But don’t expect us to just give you whatever you want. I was asked to consult on the cases and ensure that the murders are interesting, but I’m also here to make sure you don’t create anyone who’s too traumatized or too… bizarre to make it in the real world. There aren’t going to be any  Korekiyos or Ryomas ever again.” Shuichi told her firmly, sitting up straighter in his chair.</p><p>“Yes, yes, of course.” Naomi waved her hand dismissively. “We’ll need a more positive season for the grand revival anyway. We have a responsibility, here at Team Dangan Ronpa, to help soothe the tensions around the world. People are angry, lashing out and shattering decades’ worth of peace, without the killing games. Broken people make for good television, but they are certainly not the unifying force the world needs right now.”</p><p>Maki rolled her eyes. “Tell me you don’t believe all that crap about the killing games creating world peace. The end of the show didn’t cause the unrest, the revelation about the horrors your show was creating did.”</p><p>Naomi scowled. “Believe what you like, but we have been contacted by the governments of seven different countries, begging us to bring back the killing games before tensions boil over. My job here is to make sure we do the best we can to help.”</p><p>“Okay, okay. We’re not here to fight over this. As long as you listen to us, I’m sure this will be fine.” Shuichi shook his head slightly at Maki.</p><p> </p><p>Maki scowled and murmured an insult under her breath, but looked away, something Naomi noticed with interest. It seemed that the girl still listened to him even after their season was over. Everyone tended to expect that personal dynamics would shift and change, now that they were no longer being scripted to act a certain way. Certainly previous seasons had fallen apart that way. Friends and lovers became enemies or strangers, and enemies became friends. Hikari and Jonas had been a particularly fascinating example of such a shift in dynamic. Naomi couldn’t help but wonder whether Tsumugi’s desperate attempts at scripting her season back on track had gotten that strong by the end, or if the pair were simply inclined to stick together. </p><p>“Of course.” Naomi replied with a calculated smile. “Would you like to start by laying down any guidelines you would like us to follow during the creation process?”</p><p>Shuichi and Maki traded glances. “I did mention no profoundly broken cast members. Everyone should have the option to go back to being who they were, but no one should feel like that is their only choice, and no cast members should be made that aren’t safe to release into the world.”</p><p>Naomi nodded. “That is a perfectly reasonable place to start. What else?”</p><p>“On that same note, no one’s writing plots for them, but they do need to be all written so they can make friends and connect with people. I’ve gone through records of the past twenty seasons of the show, and the worst things always seem to happen as a result of people feeling alienated from day one. Loners and conflict within the season are natural, but no one should wake up and find on day one that it will be impossible to connect.”</p><p>“That’s… not entirely practical without scripting. I’m sure you realize?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.</p><p>“Sure, yes. But all of them should at least be capable of connecting with others. To reduce the strain on everyone, they need to all have someone they can lean on.” He smiled at Maki for a moment.</p><p>“Alright.” Naomi made a note of that. “Anything else?”</p><p>“More… practical details about group makeup than anything else.” Shuichi admitted, flipping through his notebook. “I… well…” He glanced over at Maki.</p><p>“The group can’t be too cohesive, or else no one will kill each other.” Maki said flatly. “But the group needs to be balanced enough that no one has a way higher chance of being killed than anyone else. Since there’s probably going to be at least a few who are softer hearted than the others, we should include at least one stronger one who’d be inclined to protect them.”</p><p>Naomi grinned a predatory grin. “Glad to see you’re taking your job of setting up for murders seriously, Mr. Saihara.”</p><p>Shuichi stammered and looked uncomfortable enough that Maki glared at her. “Stop that. We’re not your toys, we’re your equals now.”</p><p>“My apologies.” She sighed and shrugged. “That was meant to be encouraging. Your time here does not have to be unpleasant. I am genuinely glad to see the two of you getting into the swing of pre-production. It can be fun.”</p><p>“Fun?” Maki repeated, her voice hollow and her gaze furious. “You think this is fun?”</p><p>“Maki, it’s fine.” Shuichi told her urgently. “Let's just get this over with.”</p><p>“Very well.” Naomi replied, returning to her more typical, business-like tone of voice. “I’m suggesting we aim for roughly one third of our cast to have physical talents, one third mental, and the last third emotional slash artistic. Is that acceptable to you?”</p><p>“That... does seem like a reasonable spread, yes.” Shuichi agreed, taking a deep breath. “Perhaps… since Mr. Pham has said you’re aiming for more of a spooky murder mystery vibe, we might include paranormal Talents? If the whole thing happens within a computer, that sort of thing seems like it would be easy to arrange, right?”</p><p>“That could work well.” She agreed. “Perhaps one or two. Nothing on your ‘Ultimate Mage’, of course, but there’s plenty of options to work with.” Naomi pulled a white board out of a nearby cabinet, propping it up for Maki and Shuichi to see the sixteen numbered spots already written down. “So, split into thirds, with one or two supernatural talents. Those would be emotional, I would think?”</p><p>“Emotional or mental, depending on the talent, I would think.” Shuichi supplied. “And some kind of guardian. Maybe an Ultimate Bodyguard?”</p><p>Naomi wrote that down. “Mmm, yes. We can work with that.”</p><p>“It’s probably not a good idea to have a programmer or computer whiz Talent at all,” Shuichi went on. “You probably don’t want someone who could figure out what’s going on from within the program. Miu took control of the Neo World program while we were inside of it. A proper programmer could do a lot worse.”</p><p>Naomi made a note of that as well. “I think it’s best if we avoid repeating last season’s talents for the most part, although the writer’s room has a couple repeats they’ve already written up, and do seem to be quite promising. An Ultimate Artist, as I recall, and a couple others.”</p><p>Shuichi and Maki looked at each other. “Angie… wasn’t exactly primarily an artist.” He replied after a moment. “I don’t see why not?”</p><p>Maki nodded her agreement, finally speaking up again. “The personalities are what’s really important, not the Talents. As long as they’re different enough from what’s come before. And don’t use any of ours.”</p><p>Naomi nodded. “I assure you, all three of your Talents have made it onto our ‘do not repeat’ list for the foreseeable future. We don’t want anyone thinking about you three while watching the new season.”</p><p>Maki smirked at Shuichi, who merely nodded. “Alright, then. That’s good. There should be someone who can help take care of people, to minimize emotional strain. A psychologist, perhaps?”</p><p>Naomi pulled a thick file out of her desk and flipped through it thoughtfully. “Hmmm. Yes, I like this. The writers room had a very interesting profile already created for an ‘Ultimate Caretaker.’ I imagine that would do nicely?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, that would do well. Are those the... character profiles they’ve created? Can I see them?”</p><p>Naomi set the file down in front of Shuichi. “Take a look. There’s quite a lot of fun ones. Some of them are rejects from old seasons, ideas that didn’t fit our tone, or who just didn’t make it for various reasons. They can all be edited to suit our purposes, of course, so don’t get too hung up on the details.”</p><p>Maki reached over and took a handful of papers from the file to look through. “What kind of assholes do we want? We should decide that right away. Picking out what the pricks of the group will be like gives us the chance to pick people who won’t be as bothered by them”</p><p>Shuichi sighed. “Definitely not someone like...Kokichi. More low-key, maybe? To avoid the isolation issue.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about this one?” Maki put down a file labeled ‘Ultimate Filmmaker’</p><p>“She doesn’t seem so bad.” Shuichi replied, glancing through it.</p><p>Naomi smiled. “So you’re going for selfishness, rather than outright malevolence?”</p><p>Maki shot her a glare and refused to voice her point directly to Ms. Laurent, instead turning back to Shuichi, continuing on, “Exactly. Instead of one or two overwhelmingly villainous people, we can scatter several crappy people who will still connect with the group.”</p><p>“We’ll still need a defined villain.” Naomi pointed out.</p><p>“You’ve already got Monokuma and the Monocrew. If you’re trying to stress unity, don’t put a giant fracture in from the beginning.” Shuichi replied confidently.</p><p>“Mmm, you may have a point there.” She tapped the dry erase marker thoughtfully. “So, three or four selfish or otherwise casually villainous characters...yes, of course, I see it now. That works for me.”</p><p>Shuichi nodded. “We’ve got a good framework for who to choose at this point. I’m not sure if Maki and I need to sit with you and choose every single person who will be a part of the cast.” </p><p>Maki glanced over at her companion in a way Naomi couldn’t quite decipher, then nodded decisively. “Are we good here, then?”</p><p>Naomi sighed. “If you would rather not be involved in the final selection, I can certainly do it without you. Are you sure?”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi frowned. “This isn’t really my area, but... please allow us the opportunity to review the final cast list before any decisions are made. I think we deserve the right to have final say over that at least. For now, though, I’d probably be of better use getting back down to Mr. Pham.”</p><p>“Very well then.” Naomi stood and shook Shuichi’s hand, and although she expected the rejection, made an attempt to shake Maki’s as well. Of course, the Ultimate Assassin refused, and Ms. Laurent smiled her most professional smile. “Thank you both so much for your time.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N: Another chapter down! If your Ultimate was mentioned, I hope you liked the teaser. If your Ultimate was not, don’t worry, I’ve still got great plans for them. In other news, I’ve got ten Ultimates now. I need a minimum of five more to get the killing game going, so we’re not too far off. Please keep them coming! If you’ve already submitted one, you’re welcome to submit again. I’ve got a three chapters planned before the games start, but the sooner my cast is fleshed out the better. I am on a biweekly posting schedule, so I'll see you all in two weeks!</p><p>Taken Ultimate Talents:</p><p>-Ultimate Figure Skater<br/>-Ultimate Caretaker<br/>-Ultimate Artist<br/>-Ultimate ‘Goddess’<br/>-Ultimate Occultist<br/>-Ultimate Biological Engineer<br/>-Ultimate Filmmaker<br/>-Ultimate Medium<br/>-Ultimate Ballet Dancer<br/>-Ultimate Bodyguard</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Himiko, Carlos, and Jonas are not going to just sit around and let their friends be miserable</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Shuichi and Maki had first started their new, horrifying jobs, Himiko had thought that being left behind would come as a relief, but she found that all this time by herself, with nothing to do but think, was more stressful than relaxing. She still wasn’t entirely sure when she had left behind wanting nothing more than to do nothing all day, but her expectations for herself were still sometimes wildly mismatched. </p><p>She’d tried to rest, napping or lying in bed watching movies, but instead she spent more and more of her time pacing the halls of the Institute. Himiko wished now that she’d volunteered to help, alongside Maki and Shuichi. There was only so much she could do; when they came home for the night, she would try to comfort them, but neither one of them wanted to talk much about much of anything, especially not their work with Team Dangan Ronpa. </p><p>She could tell, by Shuichi’s silence and Maki’s increasingly fierce protective glare at anyone who might possibly stress Shuichi out, that they were both having a hard time dealing with the work. Bugging them too much about it would only make it worse. She tried to smile, be cheerful, and even do some magic to help them relax, but she always felt like she should be doing more. Much more.</p><p>From what Himiko could tell, everyone else left at the Institute felt the same. Jonas, who previously spent almost no time at the Institute unless there was a particularly important meeting, had taken to spending his afternoons in the lounge waiting for Hikari to drop Shuichi and Maki off on her way home. Carlos was too stressed by the situation to even pick his usual fights with him. Eventually, Yume had started taking pity on Himiko, and recruiting her to help around the office.  Both had quickly realized, however, that Himiko was a disaster with paperwork and had a knack for causing printers, copiers, computers, and even staplers to mysteriously act up.</p><p>Not wanting to get in the way, the Ultimate Mage had resigned herself to pacing and biting her nails until she could think of something that would  actually help her friends. It wasn’t until one particularly tense afternoon, the day after Shuichi flat out refused to eat dinner and Maki punched a hole in the wall, that Himiko finally lost her temper with Carlos and Jonas, as they all sat uneasily in the lounge. </p><p>“Can’t either of you think of anything we can do about this?” She shouted at the two men out of nowhere.</p><p>They both jumped, turning to look at her. “Like what?” Jonas asked bitterly. “We’ve done our bit, now we get to sit and wait.”</p><p>“I know it’s frustrating, Himiko.” Carlos told her soothingly. “But we’ve done all we can.”</p><p>“I don’t believe that!” She tugged irritably on her hat. “There has to be more we can do. Shuichi and Maki are making themselves sick over this!”</p><p>“I’m not their parents, I can’t just call in and get them a sick day or something.” Carlos sighed. “They’re adults, and they’ve made the decision to do this. I don’t know that they’d thank us for interfering.”</p><p>“Fuck that!” Jonas suddenly snapped, his perspective on the matter seeming to shift on a dime, the moment Carlos took a stronger stance for him to oppose. “We can’t just sit here and let them half kill themselves for us either, Carlos. Himiko’s right!”</p><p>Himiko high fived him proudly. “Exactly! If we just sit here and let them hurt Shuichi, Maki, and Hikari, then the Company still wins in the end. I didn’t come this far to let them win now.”</p><p>Carlos sighed, taking a few moments to consider thoughtfully what the two of them had said. Finally, he nodded. “Alright, let's call Adele in, see what she can find that we can do.” Wasting no time, he pulled out his phone and sent off a quick text.</p><p>“Hell yeah!” Jonas grinned at Carlos and flashed him an enthusiastic thumbs up, and the other man smiled tiredly back. “You really don’t just have to sit back and let this shit happen. Haven't you figured that out by now?”</p><p>Carlos started to answer, but was interrupted by the sudden sound of the door swinging open behind them, as Nakamura entered the lounge with an amused smile. “I’m told the three of you need my help?” She asked</p><p>“We’re trying to figure out how to help Hikari, Maki, and Shuichi. This job is hurting them and it’s not fair.” Himiko explained firmly. “But we have to find a way that doesn’t break the agreement.”</p><p>Nakamura nodded. “They have been rather beat down lately. We won’t be able to change the working conditions at the Company, I’m afraid. But…there is a potential loophole. Depending on how all in you’re willing to go on this.”</p><p>“I’d do anything.” Jonas told her seriously.</p><p>Himiko nodded her agreement. “Anything for them.”</p><p>Carlos was silent, and Nakamura turned to him with a sharp look. “This would need you too. Three of them agreed to participate, three of you would need to agree to take their places.”</p><p>“Take their places?” Carlos looked horrified by the thought. “I have work to do here, I can’t just-”</p><p>“Oh, shut up.” Jonas told him. “You know full well Yume and Kaoru would be able to keep things going without you. There’s no new survivors to settle in, no active legal battles. There’s nothing that needs you on deck immediately right now. You’re just too much of a coward to come out from behind the desk.”</p><p>Carlos glared at him for a moment. “Just because you don’t have any damn idea of what it is to dedicate yourself to something doesn’t mean it would be easy for me to simply step away for potentially weeks or even months.”</p><p>Jonas stood up. Every muscle in his body was tense, and for a moment, it appeared as though he was just about to throw a punch at Carlos.</p><p>Suddenly, however, Himiko jumped onto the table between them. She’d grown a lot in the past few years, but even standing on a table between both Carlos and Jonas, she was still comically small. “STOP IT, BOTH OF YOU!” She yelled at them. “This is too important for you to get caught up fighting each other like you always do! It’s our best chance to help our friends! Please, Carlos.”</p><p>Carlos looked from Himiko, on the verge of angry tears, to Nakamura who looked just the tiniest bit smug, and finally to Jonas. He stared at Jonas’ face for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. Okay. I’ll do it.”</p><p>Nakamura nodded. “You’ll want to talk to them tonight, and I’ll send word to the Company in the morning that we’re swapping the survivor contractors. It’s in the contract that they have no say in which of us is there as long as there is a consistent number of us for the whole time. I suspect it was intended to ensure consistent attendance, but it gives us a loophole.”</p><p>“I’ll talk to Hikari.” Jonas told them all firmly. “I’m a showman. I’m better suited for this stage of things anyway. She’ll listen to me.”</p><p>“Himiko, I’ll talk to Shuichi and Maki if you want, but it would probably be best coming from you.” Carlos told her carefully.</p><p>Himiko nodded and tried not to look as nervous about that as she felt. “I’ll do it, don’t worry.”</p><p> </p><p>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Himiko couldn’t decide whether it was lucky or not that all of this was decided only an hour or so before Maki and Shuichi were home for the day. On the one hand, she would’ve liked to have more time to figure out how to convince them. On the other hand, maybe it was best if she could get this over with as soon as possible. She wasn’t protective like Maki or clever and persuasive like Shuichi. Despite her best efforts, she knew that to some degree she’d been dead weight to them during the entirety of the Killing Game. Her most significant contribution had been finding the secret bathroom entrance, and in the process she’d nearly gotten Shuichi into a lot of trouble.</p><p>All she really had was enthusiasm and a stubborn streak, something she’d inherited from Tenko. It was the best of what was left of the Ultimate Aikido Master,, but would it be enough? Could it be enough to not only convince Shuichi and Maki to let her do this, but deal with the actual hardship of the position she’d be expected to fill? Although she was scared, Himiko was sure Tenko would’ve been up to the challenge, so she would have to be too.</p><p>When Shuichi and Maki got home that evening, Himiko knew she was making the right choice. Shuichi hadn’t looked as emotionally frail as he was then  since their escape from the Killing Game. And Maki… well, she was clearly making an effort to appear fine, but Himiko knew her well enough to recognize that when she spent so much time glaring around every corner, she was emotionally worn out enough she was falling back on old habits.</p><p>She took a deep breath, letting Tenko’s courageous voice fill her chest, and approached her friends. “Hey guys? I hate to bother you, but… I need to talk to you both about something important.”</p><p>Maki glared at her. It was the glare she normally saved for active threats, which just further proved how worn out she must have been. Himiko had… mostly learned to stop being scared of that glare. “Can’t it wait?” Maki snapped. </p><p>“No, it really can’t.” Himiko insisted, trying to keep strong, confident Tenko in her mind. Tenko would not have backed down, so she wouldn’t, either.</p><p>“Alright, let's all talk in my room then.” Shuichi told her tiredly. “Will it take long?”</p><p>“Um… Hopefully not?” Himiko replied. </p><p>“Fine.” Maki said, and led Shuichi into his room, making sure he was as comfortable as he could be before taking a seat nearby as well. “What is it, then?”</p><p>Himiko did not sit, hoping it would make her look stronger. “I was talking to Carlos, Jonas, and Nakamura earlier. We came up with an idea for how to help you two and Hikari out.”</p><p>“We’re fine.” Shuichi insisted, too quickly, the shaking in his voice betraying his answer.</p><p>Maki scowled at him for a moment. “What was the idea?”</p><p>“Well, according to Nakamura... since three of you signed on to help, as long as three of us are working with them at any given moment, they have to let us swap out. And it’s obvious that all three of you need a break really bad!”</p><p>“Himiko… No, listen, don’t worry. Maki, Hikari, and me, we’re fine. And I couldn’t ask anyone to- ” Shuichi started, but Maki cut him off sharply.</p><p>“Shut up.” She insisted, glancing between Shuichi and Himiko. “So, Carlos, Jonas, and Nakamura would be taking our places for a while?”</p><p>“No, Nakamura says she can’t, she has to be able to watch them and make sure they stick to the contract. I was going to do it with Carlos and Jonas.”</p><p>Shuichi sounded more than a little worried. “You really don’t have to do that. I’ll get by. Maki and Hikari can take that break, but I’ll keep at it, it really is fine.”</p><p>“Not a chance.” Maki told him fiercely. “If you think there’s any chance of me leaving you to go through this alone, you’re worse off than I thought.”</p><p>“But Maki- ”</p><p>“No. Fuck that. When was the last time you ate a real meal, Shuichi?”</p><p>He looked away and didn’t answer.</p><p>“Himiko, are you sure?” Maki asked her fiercely. “You’ve never had to do anything like this before. If you tell me you can, I’ll believe you, but you have to be sure.”</p><p>Himiko nodded, trying to look as tough as she could. “I’m sure. I can handle it.”</p><p>“Okay. I trust you. Shuichi and I will take a break.”</p><p>Shuichi opened his mouth with an expression that suggested he might be about to disagree further, looked at Maki, and closed it again before saying instead, “Thank you, Himiko. Just… please tell us if you need one of us to trade back with you. If we’re going to do this, we might as well use it to all of our best advantage.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Posting this slightly early because all sixteen spots are taken holy crap wow! Thank you to every last one of you that has submitted, I love all of your characters and I’m so excited to tell a story with them. Next time I’ll start introducing the Ultimates, and then it’s only a couple chapters before the Killing Game properly starts. Until then, I’m bumping up the updates to one a week, I’m sure you’re all as eager as I am to get this show on the road.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Taking the Stage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jonas, Himiko, and Carlos start their work at the Company just in time to have to watch the finalist interviews with Nezumi and the new head of the Writing Department.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hikari was much easier for Jonas to talk around than the others might’ve expected, but he wasn’t surprised. His friend knew just how badly Shuichi and Maki were reacting to their roles at the Company. Likewise, she resented being shoved back into the programmer role she’d fought so hard to shed. </p><p> </p><p>Hikari and Jonas had an understanding, and she knew that if he asked her to do something as extreme as quitting halfway through this process, it was for a damn good reason. Shuichi and Maki would not have agreed to step down if Hikari was staying, and so it was only practical for her to step down as well.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't something he encouraged people to think, but Jonas was a very practical man. He preferred people think of him as the frivolous acrobat and comedian, living for the spotlight and the applause, as well as the benefits of fame. This was, of course, how the Company had designed him, but he’d made his peace with that years ago and made it his own. </p><p> </p><p>Fabricated or not, he truly did enjoy performing, and felt quietly rebellious every time he used that as an act to hide behind. Knowing that everyone in the entire world expected that he could only ever be what they thought he already was, well, that was awfully convenient for Jonas. The Company hadn’t even known to be wary of him until he’d put his full weight behind the three incredible survivors of season V3, hadn’t even known he cared about politics until his entire social media presence was put to use in support of the Initiative’s legal battle against the Company.</p><p> </p><p>Yet somehow, even knowing the damage his betrayal had already done so far, people in the Company’s office treated him almost like a friend. They were all, understandably, wary of Carlos, who had been fighting them on some level for fifteen years, and of Himiko, one of the trio that had put a stop to Dangan Ronpa for several years. Jonas, on the other hand, found himself being stopped in the hallways for warm conversations or being waved to by employees he hardly knew. Many were even willing to chat him up casually in the elevator. They thought of him as a success story and, somehow, an ally.</p><p> </p><p>It was obvious that Carlos considered this proof that Jonas was as untrustworthy as he always assumed him to be. He took every snub and every smile  personally, and Jonas wasn’t sure whether Carlos was more upset that people here liked Jonas, or that they didn’t like him. Either way, the man was even colder to him than normal through their very rushed week of training. He pretended not to notice, but couldn’t deny that it stung.</p><p> </p><p>They’d always had a… fraught relationship. Whether they were yelling or kissing, they never seemed to be able to just get along for more than a few days at a time. Jonas knew this, knew that they both needed to move on from whatever was between them, and he was certain Carlos knew it too. But they never did. Both of them just kept right at it, even in the heart of the Company’s headquarters, when it really would’ve done them both some good to put aside their differences and stand against their long time enemy.</p><p> </p><p>Himiko seemed to be doing an excellent job of ignoring their squabbles, however, approaching the training and the prospect of their upcoming work with an intensity Jonas had not thought possible for the small woman. She was so good at fading lethargically into the background, he’d assumed it was simply what she did. As it turned out, when she had strong enough motivation, the so-called Ultimate Mage could be a force to be reckoned with. He couldn’t help but be seriously impressed.</p><p> </p><p>By the time their rushed week of training was done, Carlos and Jonas had both been shamed at least a bit into stepping up. Neither of them wanted to leave the young woman doing all the metaphorical heavy lifting on her own. Carlos seemed to have settled into a competitive rhythm of trying to be better and more professional than Jonas, and since it meant that he was no longer constantly being glared at, Jonas was more than happy to accept that.</p><p> </p><p>Once they were deemed ready to participate, they were summoned into the office of Kobayashi Yuna, de facto head of the writing department. Jonas could tell by the way the rest of the Company employees reacted to Kobayashi that she was not particularly well regarded, and their trainers had gone more out of the way than strictly necessary to point out that the writers had been almost entirely written out of the upcoming season. He was surprised, therefore, to find that they were starting with the writers after all.</p><p> </p><p>Kobayashi’s office did nothing to belie the impression of a department in disgrace. In contrast to the large, well furnished offices they’d seen from the heads of other departments, Kobayashi’s was small, with mismatched furniture that had clearly been scavenged from other offices. She did not have a coffee maker or a conference table, and when they arrived, she was forced to send someone to fetch an extra chair so that all four of them could sit in her office. </p><p> </p><p>Despite this impression of ramshackle disarray, there was something vaguely menacing about the Writing Department and the small woman who now ran the place. Jonas couldn’t really pinpoint what caused the feeling of cold discomfort in his stomach, especially not in the face of the smiling woman who apologized profusely for not having chairs for everyone.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you all for coming.” She told them warmly. “I would have set aside a conference room, but we won’t be staying here long. I asked you to join me to watch our finalists being interviewed for the last time. We must choose candidates who will mesh well with our cast of characters. Your insight will be useful, and we thought you would like to see for yourself how eager the finalists are, and how enthusiastically they give their consent. To ease your minds.”</p><p> </p><p>Jonas, glancing at his fellow Initiative members, saw Himiko’s composed expression falter. He’d expected that. He and Carlos had grown used to seeing eager young people, barely old enough to apply, willing to fling themselves into mortal danger for the excitement. Every year Carlos and his staff at the Initiative watched the application videos once they were released, preparing to help whatever was made of them and whoever survived. Even though Jonas had never been a part of those meetings, he and Hikari had watched them every year as a silent tribute. </p><p> </p><p>Himiko, on the other hand, had never seen new applicants before. “Of course.” Jonas said smoothly, shifting in his seat, a subtle motion meant to draw the focus away from Himiko until she could compose herself again. As a fellow showman, he was confident she would appreciate the power of misdirection, even in such a mundane situation. “We would be glad to assist. Do you have the final lineup of cast members on hand?”</p><p> </p><p>Kobayashi nodded and pulled out a file in question. “We do. These are their dossiers, if you’d like to look through them. We have a few minutes before the interviews are scheduled to start.”</p><p>Jonas took the file and handed random dossiers over to Himiko and Carlos. “That seems like an excellent plan.”</p><p>“Excuse me while I step out for just a moment, to make sure everything’s ready to go. I’ll return when it’s time to get started.” The writer replied with another smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, go ahead!” Carlos replied, taking a file and looking at it with interest. “Thank you.”</p><p>Kobayashi stepped out of the room quietly, and both men turned to Himiko. “Are you alright?” Jonas asked with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine. I just… didn’t expect we’d be jumping straight into this.” Himiko replied defensively.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright if you need a few minutes. We can get started without you.” Carlos told her, his tone soothing, in the way that always made Jonas smile.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Himiko insisted. “I signed up to do this, and I’m going to do it right. I’ll be fine. Let's just read through these stupid things before she comes back.”</p><p>“Alright, but...take a minute to compose yourself, though.” Jonas told her gently. “Think of it like you’re about to go onstage. It’s just an act.”</p><p>Carlos stared at him with a strange look on his face, but Himiko took a deep breath and relaxed. “You’re right. It’s just an act. Thanks, Jonas.”</p><p> </p><p>Jonas nodded and smiled. “Alright. What file have you got?”</p><p> </p><p>Himiko looked down at it. “An… Occultist? Hey, how come he gets to have real magic?!”</p><p>Jonas laughed. “Probably because they couldn’t figure out a way to do it in real life, but since this season is all happening in a computer, they can do whatever they want with it.”</p><p>Carlos, his gaze still oddly focused on Jonas, seemed to catch on to the other man’s strategy for calming Himiko down. “This is the Company, after all, they don’t like having to deal with the really complicated stuff.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm. I guess trying to harness my magic for the show would’ve been difficult. I might’ve blown a hole in their dome if they weren’t careful.” Himiko replied, much calmer and now mollified.</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.” Jonas agreed. “But you’ve set an excellent example, it seems. I’ve got an Ultimate Medium here too. Except that...aw, man!  They’re not even going to let him talk to the ‘dead’ kids, it says.”</p><p> </p><p>Carlos frowns. “They’re...really taking this season in a weird direction, huh? I’ve got an Undertaker.”</p><p>Just then, the door swung open once again, and Kobayashi’s smiling face reappeared. “We’re aiming to give this season  more of a classic “Victorian Murder Mystery” feeling. Hinting at ghosts, maybe some other paranormal happenings, but no indication of whether any of these things are truly real.” She looked at the three of them.  “Are you all ready to get started? They’re waiting for us in the auditorium.”</p><p>“We’re ready.” Himiko replied firmly, scowling momentarily at the men in a way Jonas found quite endearing.</p><p>“Very well, please, follow me.” </p><p> </p><p>Kobayashi stepped out of the doorway so they could exit the room with her, leading the three of them downstairs and into a large room with a few dozen seats, set up in an amphitheater style, with rows of chairs on risers surrounding the floor in the middle of the room. In the front couple rows, on the far wall, sat fifteen people that had to be the finalists. They all looked so young, and all of them were clearly somewhere along the nervous-excited spectrum. </p><p> </p><p>One of the finalists, a thin woman with a tight bun and high cheekbones, was already seated in the chair at the center of the room, with someone who must have been the main interviewer sitting across from her. A cross looking blonde man sat in the front row in the center of the room, and Kobayashi led the three of them to sit next to him. </p><p>“Kobayashi. You’re late.” He told her, scowling at all four of them.</p><p>“We have not started yet, Nezumi.” She told him gently. “We are just in time.”</p><p>Jonas immediately disliked the man, and was unsurprised to find that he was Touma Nezumi, head of the Cinematography Department. Hikari and Nakamura had both had a number of unflattering things to say about the man. “If we’re late, perhaps we should just get started?” He suggested with his most charming smile.</p><p> </p><p>Nezumi glared, but Kobayashi flashed him a grateful look. “Devi, if you would please, get started for us?” She called out to the interviewer, who nodded. </p><p>“Candidate A. Will you please state for the record what show you are auditioning to be a part of?” Devi, a woman in a green headscarf and a sensible gray suit, asked the woman with the bun.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m auditioning to be on season 54 of Dangan Ronpa.” She replied, glancing around the room nervously, but with a clear hint of excitement on her face. </p><p>“Good. And you are aware that as a cast member of Dangan Ronpa you will be imprinted with an entirely new history and personality for the duration of the show?” Devi asked, making a note on her clipboard.</p><p>“I am, yeah. But... we don’t have to actually die this season, right? It’s not like the old show used to be?”</p><p>Devi smiled. “That is correct. No one during this season of Dangan Ronpa, season 54, will actually die. Although, please remember, per previous application interviews, you will be expected to negotiate with your new, alternate self over who will retain control over your body at the conclusion of the show. You and your alternate self will enter into a written contract to ensure fair treatment of both parties before, during, and after season 54’s conclusion.”</p><p>Candidate A nodded politely, but a few of the other candidates waiting for their turn shifted uneasily in their seats. “That’s fine. I’m sure we can figure something out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good, good. Moving on, what is it about you that you think would make a good cast member for the upcoming season of Dangan Ronpa?”</p><p>“Well- okay, so, it’s easier for you to build off of what someone can already do, right? At least physically? I’m very fit, I’m coordinated, I have good muscle memory, and I’m very flexible. I’d be great for some sort of athlete. I’ve also got really steady hands, if you want a chemist or a surgeon or something.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see. All potentially useful traits...” Devi agreed, though her tone was rather unenthused. “If you were able to choose what role you’d like to play, what would it be?”</p><p>Candidate A frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe a gymnast or a dancer? Someone strong and tough, but who might get overlooked. I’m pretty tiny anyway, so something like that would be a good fit for me.”</p><p>Kobayashi leaned over, murmuring to Jonas and the others. “We’ve already got this one pegged as the Ultimate Ballet Dancer. Don’t you think she looks perfect for it?”</p><p>Jonas looked over ‘Candidate A’ and had to agree. She had that thin, angular dancer look, especially with her hair in that tight bun. “You’re not wrong.” He replied in an equally quiet voice.</p><p>“And it is what she asked for, too.” Himiko remarked, but her volume was less restrained, and ended up just slightly too loud. Candidate A blinked and was distracted from her answer, lifting her gaze to stare at the group of observers. </p><p>Kobayashi laughed. “Candidate A, I think we have enough, thank you. Our apologies for interrupting. Please head to the waiting room, you’ll be informed of our choice as soon as we’re done here.”</p><p>The woman jumped up, beaming. “Really? Thank you!”</p><p>Devi nodded. “It’s just down the hall to the right, you can’t miss it. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>The next few interviews went by mostly the same, some left to talk a while, some sent off quickly. During the fifth interview, Jonas finally realized something important. </p><p> </p><p>“Why are there so few candidates?” He leaned in to ask Kobayashi quietly. “Is this only part of the group?”</p><p>She smiled back at him pleasantly. “We are casting much more internationally for this season. It’s meant to be a part of the theme for the season, I’m told, which is apparently ‘unity.’ There are three casting locations. One here in Japan, another in Europe, and the third in America.”</p><p>“So how many slots are you actually filling here today?” Himiko asked, managing to whisper properly this time.</p><p>“We don’t have an exact number.” Kobayashi replied. “Our location here will be casting first, and depending on how many of our finalists we decide will be worth keeping, our sister locations will cast the remaining slots from their pools. We have the priority casting to ourselves, since Dangan Ronpa is still Japanese, after all.”</p><p>Carlos looked impressed, despite his animosity for the Company, but there was a hint of irritation with himself for being so impressed in the first place behind those big brown eyes. Jonas chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head, as the other man spoke “That’s a lot of coordination.” Carlos said. “Why not fly them all here, though, since they’ll have to be here for the show anyway?”</p><p>“They won’t have to be, actually.” Nezumi replied. “Our cast will be hooked into our system through a heavily secured network, staying at whichever Dangan Ronpa Corporation location is nearest to them.”</p><p>“So, that’s what Hikari was working on?” Jonas asked, impressed despite himself.</p><p>“It was, yes.” Kobayashi replied. “Hikari thought the participants would be more comfortable if they were not being forced to travel so far away from home.”</p><p>“She does good work.” Jonas grinned. With this very tangible example of what Hikari had managed to achieve for them and for the new kids, Jonas finally started to believe they could actually make a difference with their work on the season.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welcome back, folks! We’re getting so close to the start of the killing game. I hope you’re all as excited as I am to get started. We’re looking at two more chapters before then, so that’s two more weekly updates. In the meantime, here’s the final lineup, for your viewing pleasure:</p><p> </p><p>Zasha Kamanev- Ultimate Figure Skater</p><p>Kumi Ichikawa- Ultimate Caretaker</p><p>Jeong Sun Cho- Ultimate Biological Engineer</p><p>Ryuushin Hiikari- Ultimate Artist</p><p>Akari Hara- Ultimate Goddess</p><p>Seikatsu Shi- Ultimate Occultist</p><p>Dylan Anderson- Ultimate Medium</p><p>Shaddastra Middleditch- Ultimate Filmmaker</p><p>Yuri Sato- Ultimate Ballet Dancer</p><p>Mamoru Terajima- Ultimate Bodyguard</p><p>Jacky Diez- Ultimate Soccer Player</p><p>Dracon Bahamut- Ultimate Guitarist</p><p>Asami Haruki- Ultimate Fashion Designer</p><p> Alice Calaway- Ultimate Undertaker</p><p>Osamu Fujimo- Ultimate Snake charmer</p><p>Anna Watanabe- Ultimate Game Designer</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Up Against the Wire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Carlos gets a bit too in his own head trying to do right by the new Ultimates and Jonas is happy to assist</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carlos considered it his responsibility to remain calm and composed, even under pressure. He was the face of the Integration Institute, after all. Now more than ever, working temporarily for the Company meant that he not only had to represent the Institute, but be a stable presence for Himiko and Jonas. The latter would certainly deny that he needed any such thing from him, but Carlos knew Jonas. He talked big and acted like nothing bothered him, but the facade would be wearing on him by now. Jonas was a lot more sensitive than he let on.</p><p>Carlos knew that putting on his own brave face would help him to cope as well. He would never admit it, but their work sickened him. All he could think about was the people from previous seasons who’d done this same work preparing to kill children, year after year. None of those people had ever really cared what happened to their ‘creations’ after the season was over. That had been his job. Every season a group of highly paid smug writers in suits would create interesting children to kill, and every year the Initiative had to tidy up the mess left behind.</p><p>It was better than it had been when he’d come out, traumatized and confused. Back then, the Company provided contestants with free transport back to their old lives, and not much else. Even that hadn’t been an option for him. Someone doing the very same work he was doing now had decided that Carlos Hernandez, the Ultimate Firefighter, didn’t need to know Spanish. His background had him growing up in America, and either someone had decided adding a third language would be too much or someone had forgotten to include it, but he could not return to his original home in Mexico without any knowledge of the language.</p><p>That was why he’d started the Institute, to prevent anyone else from having to go through what he’d dealt with, ending up awkwardly settling down in Tokyo all alone and struggling to find a place in the world. Now, after Shuichi, Maki, Himiko, and Nakamura had turned the world upside down, he often wondered if he could have or should have done more. At the time, it had been enough to take care of those left behind. He had worked hard to be a solid, dependable guy. He knew that being impulsive or prone to pie in the sky dreams that were bound to fail could leave people worse off than they would have been, without any help at all. The Ultimate Firefighter was a hotheaded, impulsive, passionate man who wore his heart on his sleeve and got people killed as a result. Carlos had to be better than that.</p><p>This time he was the one in charge of going through fabricated histories, entire personalities, and the Talents and abilities given to each new Ultimate, and he was determined to do better than the Company had done for him. It was a daunting task. They were creating entirely new people, and if they made even one infinitesimal mistake, it could be devastating. </p><p>Jonas and Himiko came and went, working with Nezumi and Kobayashi on the opening of the season and the performances for Monokuma and the strange group they were calling the MonoCrew. The two of them were performers, it made sense for them to work with their strengths. Carlos didn't begrudge them that. He, however, was not a performer. His ability was to be resolved and tough and to do the brutal work others couldn’t. </p><p>That was why he spent every minute since his arrival at the Company going over the files for every new Ultimate with a fine toothed comb. With no one else to worry about, he grew more and more focused, skipping lunch and staying later every day to ensure that not even the smallest error or problem avoided his notice.</p><p>Two days before launch, Carlos was interrupted by Jonas while in the process of scouring one such file.</p><p>“Carlos, what are you doing?” He demanded, tugging the file out of his hand. “The day was over two hours ago.”</p><p>“Being thorough.” Carlos replied, reaching for the file. “Give it back.”</p><p>“Absolutely not. You need to go home, eat, and rest. You’re scaring people.”</p><p>“Who am I scaring?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “There’s no one here.”</p><p>“Himiko, Shuichi, Yume, Kaoru, Nakamura…” Jonas frowned. “Hikari’s talking about making you stop and taking her job back.”</p><p>“That’s ridiculous. I’m fine.” Carlos insisted.</p><p>“If you were fine, you’d be eating, at least.” Jonas replied firmly.</p><p>“How do you even know I’m not?” </p><p>Jonas smirked. Carlos hated that smirk almost as much as he loved it. “No one has seen you in the cafeteria for the past week, and no one’s brought you food, either. I know you’re eating at home, but not here.”</p><p>“I could have brought lunch from home.” Carlos argued.</p><p>“But you didn’t. Yume’s been keeping an eye out.”</p><p>“Seriously, I’m fine, Jonas. This is just… important. I don’t trust them to do it right, not after how badly they’ve messed up in the past.”</p><p>Jonas frowned worriedly. “If you wear yourself out, you might miss something too. You can finish up tomorrow.”</p><p>“It has to be tonight.” Carlos sighed. “They said they’d need to know at least by tomorrow if there was anything that needed to be fixed.”</p><p>“... How many files do you have left to go through?” Jonas asked thoughtfully.</p><p>Carlos glanced around. “I’m halfway through that one, and there are three more that need final checks.”</p><p>“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” Jonas told him firmly. “I am going to stay and help until this is done. But for right now, I’m going to order us some take out, and you’re going to spend the time it takes to get here to rest and relax, alright? Once we’ve eaten, we’ll both get to work.”</p><p>Carlos frowned and considered arguing, but eventually decided things would go more quickly if he simply gave in, and so he nodded. “Fine, fine, but don’t slack off once we’re going at it. This is crucial work.”</p><p>“That’s better.” Jonas sat down on the desk in front of Carlos and pulled out his phone. “I know how important all of this work is, you don’t have to remind me, Carlos. And you don’t have to do all this shit alone. You should know that by now.”</p><p>Carlos groaned, leaning forward and letting his head rest against Jonas’ chest. “You were busy.”</p><p>“Sure, but I don’t mind telling the Company to go fuck themselves if you need me.” He hesitantly ran his fingers through Carlos’ hair. “Though, to be honest, I don’t mind telling the Company to go fuck themselves...period.”</p><p>“Is that so? You seem pretty cozy here to me.” Carlos replied, but any anger he was holding onto seemed to be fading in the light of his fatigue, not to mention the warmth of being close to Jonas.</p><p>“Well, sure. That’s what I wanted them to think. I’m sure as hell not going to let them see how much I hate this.”</p><p>“What was that about not needing to do everything on your own?” Carlos teased him.</p><p>“I’ve been talking it over with Hikari. You’re the stubborn dumbass who won’t let anyone in.” Jonas told him, letting fondness slip into his voice.</p><p>“It’s better that way.” Carlos insisted. “They need someone steady and unflappable."</p><p>"You and your damn pride. We don't all need you to be an anchor. And you don't have to be responsible for them all on your own."</p><p>Before Carlos could reply, Jonas bent down to kiss him. Carlos had to admit that Jonas was good in a crisis, especially when the crisis involved needing someone to yank him out of his own head for a bit. He tugged Jonas down off of the desk and onto his lap to kiss him more thoroughly, and the two of them kept each other occupied until their food arrived. By the time he and Jonas got back to the files, Carlos did in fact feel much sharper and ready to work.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One more chapter until the killing game starts! See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Party Tricks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The night before the new season starts, the Company throws a party for all who were involved. Carlos, Jonas, Hikari, Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko all opt to attend. Things get... confrontational.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Hikari were to list the things she liked least in the world, parties, the Company, and pretending to like people would be at the top of the list. </p><p>Unfortunately for her, tonight, she was forced to put up with all of those things at once. It was the night before the start of the new season, and the Company was having a party for everyone who’d worked on the comeback season. Naturally, this meant all six of the former participants who’d worked on the season as well. Hikari had wanted to decline the invitation, but Carlos had decided it would be useful to go and keep an eye on things in case of last minute sabotage, and unfortunately Shuichi overheard. He insisted on going, which meant Maki and Himiko both went with him. </p><p>She would have liked to believe that Carlos would be able to keep an eye on the trio, but he was very distracted both by the return of the relationship he didn’t think anyone knew about and by his trauma from his own season. </p><p>Somewhere over the time working with the new kids, she’d found herself feeling oddly responsible for them. Hikari knew that all three of them were capable adults in their own right, but they were still so young and so new to all of this. As the least traumatized person around, she felt she owed it to them to stick around and intervene if they needed a reprieve.</p><p>That meant milling around awkwardly with a glass of champagne in her hand watching a whole bunch of people who liked killing children celebrate. On top of all that, they treated her like she was one of them now. Normally she’d have thrown the champagne in someone’s face (probably Nezumi’s, she thought savagely), but tonight she had to settle for fantasizing about doing so while trying to keep an eye on the people she actually cared for. Tonight was for them.</p><p>Jonas and Carlos were sitting in a corner on their own. She suspected they thought no one could see them holding hands, but it was possible they’d given up pretending everyone didn’t know they were a couple. For their sake, she hoped it was the latter. It’d be good for them to just openly date, since they didn’t seem to be able to move on like they always claimed they would. At the moment, they seemed happy, so Hikari made a note of where they were and left them to it. </p><p>Himiko, Maki, and Shuichi, she found, were together on the opposite side of the room. Maki was glaring away anyone who got too close to encourage them to get lost, but all three of them seemed strained. They were, judging by the impolite staring and intrusive pestering they received, too much of a temptation for curious Company staff. This Hikari could help with. She headed over that way, intending to help repel the nosy Company employees, but Himiko broke away from the group first and stepped over to meet Hikari herself.</p><p>“Hey, Himiko.” Hikari greeted her. “Is everything okay?”</p><p>Himiko shook her head with a frown. “Shuichi and Maki were trying to run off and have a look at everything for themselves but people keep interrupting. I want to distract them, but I need an assistant.”</p><p>Hikari raised an eyebrow. “An assistant? For what?”</p><p>“To do a magic show! I don’t have much on hand to prepare so I need a lovely assistant. It’s part of the spell.”</p><p>She laughed. “Alright, sure. Why not? Keep this magic show short, though. Deal?”</p><p>Himiko nodded and stuck out her hand solemnly. “Deal. Come on.”</p><p>Hikari shook her hand and let Himiko tow her over toward the crowd who were still trying to bother their friends. She whispered, “How are you going to play this? Do we need to call people over?”</p><p>Himiko shook her head and took off her hat with a flourish that caught people’s attention. “Just follow my lead.” She told her quietly, then turned, and spoke in a normal volume. “Excuse me sir, is this your watch?” </p><p>Himiko pulled the watch out of her hat and held it out to a startled man who checked his wrist in astonishment. “I… yes it is! Thank you!”</p><p>“Not a problem for the Ultimate Mage!” Himiko announced, throwing her arms dramatically wide. “Hikari, can I see your glass?”</p><p>Hikari handed her glass over, noting with amusement how quickly people were flocking over for the impromptu show. </p><p>“This is my lovely assistant’s glass.” Himiko announced. “Just one of many champagne flutes available for anyone tonight. But… it seems the caterers have lost some of their change!”</p><p>Himiko pulled a series of coins from the glass, with a polished ease that impressed Hikari. Never having seen the woman perform, she’d been skeptical of the shy, quiet woman’s skills. It seemed she truly did deserve her title. Jonas would be impressed, if he weren’t distracted by Carlos.</p><p>With Hikari’s ‘help’, Himiko did a series of surprisingly involved magic tricks. As predicted, this drew in quite a crowd, leaving no one to bother Shuichi and Maki. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched them sneak away, down a hallway that led toward the offices. Himiko kept the show going for a few minutes after, but as suddenly as she’d started, she took a bow and announced to the crowd, “Magic is hungry work! I need to hit the snack table.”</p><p>A few people complained, but no one tried to stop her when she and Hikari extricated themselves from the crowd to head toward the food. “Wow, that was really good.” Hikari told her appreciatively. “Doesn’t magic usually require advance preparation?”</p><p>“Well, when you become a truly great mage, you know some spells you can do anywhere, just in case you need them.” Himiko replied sagely. “All the great mages do street magic sometimes, it’s part of the trade.”</p><p>“I guess that makes sense.” Hikari agreed, taking a bite of a tiny meatball. “Jonas has tricks he can do anywhere.”</p><p>Himiko smiled. “You were an excellent assistant, thank you.”</p><p>“I was glad to help. Jonas usually doesn’t even ask, he just ropes me into this shit.” Hikari replied. Curious to see if Jonas had noticed the show, she glanced over to where she’d left the happy couple. Kobayashi and Laurent were making a beeline in their direction. Hikari glared. “Sorry, I have to run.”</p><p>Himiko glanced in the direction of her gaze and nodded. “I’ll talk to you later. Go get those jerks!”</p><p>Hikari nodded and walked quickly over to where Jonas and Carlos were seated. Her own approach was just in time to catch the beginning of what Ms. Laurent had to say to her friends. </p><p>“On behalf of Dangan Ronpa corporation, we just wanted to thank you both for your participation. You have both been valuable contractors during your time with us. With that in mind, I asked Kobayashi to look into our records for some information I know you particularly requested.”</p><p>The French woman smiled at Kobayashi in a way that was clearly not intended to express warmth towards her Japanese counterpart, who grimaced and avoided her gaze, clearly unnerved. “Um, yes. Carlos, we um… we have a record of your requests to know why you ended up only knowing the languages you did. We told you it was, um, not on record, which is true, but there are um… unofficial records. Private employee documents, personal recordings, that sort of thing. Even the Company does not have access to them unless the employee in question, um, gives it to them. But if the employee quits or is fired, well, uh...”</p><p>Carlos froze up, and Jonas shifted next to him, his languid smile quickly becoming a protective frown. “I’m not sure that this is the best time to be digging up the past.” Jonas told them firmly.</p><p>“Oh, but it’s not your call, Mr. Becker.” Ms. Laurent replied in a bright tone, belied by the dangerous smile on her face. “And Mr. Hernandes here has made it quite clear how important the information is to him.” </p><p>Rumor had it that Naomi Laurent particularly disliked ‘outside influence’ on Dangan Ronpa. She had apparently made it quite clear in private that were it her decision, she would rather have fought the court case brought against the company than agreed to the settlement which ‘weakened the property.’ </p><p>Hikari had never had to deal with Laurent directly, but she could tell from that smile alone that the rumors were true, at least insofar as her hatred of the ‘meddlers’ was concerned. Hidden away behind that corporate smile was the smug knowledge that not only was she hurting the two men, but that she was doing so in a way that they could not reasonably refuse. Worse, there was nothing Hikari could do to stop it. Now that Carlos knew the information was there to be found, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from asking for it, even if it hurt him.</p><p>Carlos took a deep breath. “I appreciate the digging. It must have been quite a lot of work to go through all of those records” He replied in a falsely polite voice. “I would... love... to hear what you’ve found.”</p><p>Kobayashi glanced between the two men and Laurent, then nodded, seeing the head of marketing’s intensely wide grin stretch even further. “I… well. We found some notes from one of the senior character designers who worked on your season. Apparently he, um, he had spent some time in America and was particularly frustrated by the constant assumption that someone automatically must know whatever language seemed to correlate with their ethnicity. He thought it would make a point if you did not.”</p><p>Hikari couldn’t believe her ears. This was the single most insipid, ridiculous explanation they could have given. The thing that would haunt Carlos for the rest of his life… was one guy’s feeble attempt at taking a stand against something that happened in a country Carlos had never even been to? This guy was a writer for a show where children died and he drew the line at something so stupid?</p><p>“It’s kind of you to have dug that up.” Hikari told Laurent and Kobayashi, not bothering to look as though she believed it. She barged into the group more properly and joined her friends, standing between them on the couch and the filthy executives still hovering. “But I think Carlos is going to want some time to process this news.”</p><p>Jonas glanced over at Hikari with a faint smile. “Yes, my apologies, but I think we should turn in early. What could happen tonight that could hold a candle to such an exciting discovery? I’ll make sure Carlos gets home alright.”</p><p>Kobayashi at least had the grace to look ashamed. Naomi Laurent, however, smiled condescendingly. “Yes, yes, of course. News this big should not be treated lightly. I hope the two of you have a pleasant night.”</p><p>The two women stepped away, leaving Jonas and Hikari to look worriedly over at their friend. “You’re right, I’m going home.” Carlos told them both, clearly trying to sound normal even though he was worryingly pale, his face set into a stony grimace The Initiative’s founder stood and reached for his coat.  </p><p>Jonas nodded. “Hikari, you going to be okay without us?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about any of us here, I’ve got it under control.” Hikari assured them both. “Go on, both of you, take care of each other.”</p><p>Before, Carlos might have wanted to fight. He was in a lot of pain, that much was obvious, but it was obvious also that neither Hikari or Jonas would allow him to suffer through that pain alone. Jonas hovered by his side with one arm gently curled around his waist. For her part, Hikari folded her arms across her chest, cocking one eyebrow at her friend expectantly. After a moment, with a sigh, he gave her a solemn nod.</p><p>“I’ll leave it up to you, then.” Carlos told her tiredly. “Goodnight, Hikari.”</p><p>Arms still folded, lips pressed together tightly, she turned to survey the room and to do exactly what she had promised.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter starts the killing game, folks! I am so excited to get to really dive in with all of your excellent characters. At least until the ball gets rolling I’m stepping away from weekly updates. Now that we’re into the main event, these chapters are going to be a bit more involved. Depending on how things go I may go back to weekly, but for now expect biweekly chapters again. See you in two weeks with the wake up call!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Wake Up Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Killing Game begins...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Dylan Anderson, the Ultimate Medium</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing Dylan noticed was that it was… really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> cold. And...wet? Why was he cold and wet? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Opening his eyes, he rolled over, glancing around. For a moment, he was relieved to see that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> in bed, he’d just…  left the window open, allowing snow to drift into his room, some of which had settled on him while he slept. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d opened the window in the first place, but it was clearly just a silly mistake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once his brain had a moment to catch up, he realized that while he was in bed in a cozy room with a fireplace crackling merrily in the corner, this was not his room. He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> had a fireplace in his bedroom, nor did his desk or dresser look anything like the simple, generic furniture standing neatly around the room. These walls were bare, with none of his posters or pictures from his room at home. Perhaps most glaring of all, there were no shelves filled to the brim with books and the spiritual tools he used in his work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He sat up, knocking the snow off of himself as he got up to close the window. It would be hard enough to figure out his situation without the icy cold air numbing his face and making it worse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was not his room. This was not his bed, nor his fireplace, and the high stone wall he saw outside the window was not the cheery neighborhood he lived in. He did not seem to be trapped, as the window was large enough to climb out of if he was desperate. Considering the storm outside and the barely visible wall beyond, perhaps that was a false hope. There were two doors on the side of the room opposite the window, and Dylan decided to test them and see if they were locked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Moving as quietly as he could, he stepped over to the two doors, unsure which one to try first. His situation was so bizarre, Dylan thought it best not to make any hasty moves. He carefully laid his palm on one door, then the other. It seemed like an important thing to do to test the unfamiliar doors. At least… until he remembered that this was how to test for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If there was a fire, there would definitely be more smoke by now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Dylan rubbed his temples in frustration. Why, exactly, would there be a fire, anyway? As far as he knew, kidnappers didn’t tend to randomly start fires. He took a deep breath, trying to force himself to focus. He had enough experience speaking with people who’d been violently killed to have some idea of what to look out for, right? He could do this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doors. Start with the doors. Don’t open them yet, just test the handles to see if they’re locked. No one would notice the doorknob turning if the door didn’t open, and in case there was someone watching his room, he decided he should be careful of doing things people would notice. He tried one knob, then the other. Both moved freely, which presumably meant they would open. Good. That was a good first step.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking another quick look around the room, he frowned. This place looked to Dylan kind of like a dorm or a hotel room. The space saving layout and generic furniture both gave off that distinct impression, even if the fireplace seemed like an extravagant and unusual fixture for a hotel room. If this was a hotel, though, he could guess that the door to the right, leading into the indent of the L shaped room, would be the bathroom. It was worth a try, right? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dylan opened the door a little and peeked in, then opened it the rest of the way once he saw that he was right. It was simply a bathroom. Small, very clean, with generic decor and an overly nice shower head, it looked comfortable in that sterile way hotel bathrooms tended to be. There was a little bar of soap that looked entirely untouched in the soap dish by the sink, and fluffy white towels sat folded on the shelf above the toilet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>When he was satisfied with his examination, he closed the door as quietly as possible. Was he right about being in a hotel, then? He couldn’t remember staying in a hotel or why he might have needed to do so in the first place. Other than the memory loss however, all signs pointed to this place being nothing more than a hotel room. Maybe he’d hit his head? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That just didn’t seem to make sense either. He couldn’t feel a bump on his head at all, he didn’t have a headache, his vision was fine… if he’d hit his head hard enough to lose memory, there should have been some other symptoms, right? But he couldn’t think of another explanation. Either he’d hit his head, or he’d been kidnapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that in mind, he took a deep breath and peeked out of the other door. At first he wasn’t sure what he was seeing on the other side. Before his eyes was a shiny black ring shape that looked like it was made from glass and bordered by some kind of plastic. He blinked a few times, and tried to widen his field of view, until he could make sense of what he was seeing. There on the other side of the door... was… a woman with a camera pointed directly at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <span>“Whoa, hey, don’t hurt me!” He shouted, retreating back behind the door and locking it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only after the fact did he realize the woman had tried talking to him. Dylan wished he’d caught what she was saying, but it didn’t seem safe to peek out and ask. What if </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the kidnapper? Or worse? Why was she holding a camera? To make a video ransom note? His family wasn’t exactly well off, so it didn’t seem like it would be worth it to kidnap him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What if this was a snuff film? He’d heard of those. They weren’t supposed to be a real thing, but maybe they were, and maybe he was about to find that out the hard way? Lots of people said mediums and spirits weren’t real either, how could he be sure this was different?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought gave him an idea. He could try to contact any spirits in the area and see if they knew anything. Without much else to go on, it was the only reasonable action, especially considering there was someone right outside his door who could be waiting to kill him. Dylan wedged a chair under the door handle, then went over by the bed so that he could be out of immediate view if his captors got the door open. Trying to contact spirits left him incredibly vulnerable, it was best to buy himself enough time to snap out of the trance and defend himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That done, he sat cross legged on the floor, leaning against the bathroom wall, and closed his eyes. If there were a spirit in this room, he’d be able to speak to them normally, but he couldn’t feel any presence within the room he found himself in.  That meant he’d have to reach out to the surrounding area. If this place was host to some kind of twisted snuff film production company or something, there’d have to be at least a couple of spirits hanging around, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Ultimate Medium took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, trying to ignore the way his heart was hammering in his throat long enough so that he could slip into a trance. Reaching out to any spirits in the area, he was startled not to find a single soul. It wasn’t entirely unheard of for there to be no spirits, but in a place that seemed to be host to kidnappers, it seemed unlikely. Still, he couldn’t deny the fact that there were no spirits to reach. No spirits generally meant no violent or otherwise sudden deaths in the area, at least not for quite a while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That made him feel a bit better about the situation, which in turn made him feel silly for having slammed the door in the girl’s face. Maybe she knew what was going on. He should have at least tried to check, right? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing, he removed the chair from the door, and peeked out again to find the woman looking thoughtful just outside his door. She smiled, but it was something of an odd smile. Maybe she was nervous? Dylan could certainly understand that. “Oh, good. You changed your mind?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Dylan stared in confusion. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was knocking and asking you things.” The girl replied in a voice that seemed to imply he wasn’t very bright. “But you wouldn’t come out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I couldn’t hear any knocking or questions.” He replied, frowning at her. “Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I be?” The woman looked very offended by the question.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “Well, maybe the rooms are soundproofed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Soundproofed?” She considered that for a moment. “Maybe so. That’d make sense for a scenario this elaborate. I wonder if this is even a real ski lodge or if it’s just made to look like one?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A ski lodge?” He looked around at the wood paneled walls thoughtfully. “That might explain the fireplace...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Fireplace? There’s a fireplace in there? Lemme see! What’s in there?” His new companion pushed past him into the room without waiting for a reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dylan shrugged, lingering in the doorway, just in case. This woman didn’t seem </span>
  <em>
    <span>threatening</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but she was certainly odd. He thought it best if he stayed near the exit, in case she turned out to be dangerous. “It’s a pretty generic room, other than the fireplace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Mine doesn’t have a fireplace.” She commented, holding the camera up to her face again, apparently filming the room. “Or windows, for that matter! Why do you have a better room than me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh.” Dylan had no idea how to answer that. “I just woke up here, I don’t know. Who are you, anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned, letting him finally get a proper look at her instead of the camera. She looked to be about his age, in jeans and a leather jacket. Her blonde hair was streaked with purple and black, and her face, now that he could see it, was quite pretty despite an unsettling quality behind her bright eyes. Dylan felt as though she was looking right through him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Shaddastra Middleditch.” She replied with a smirk. “You’ve probably heard of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh… should I have?” He replied, baffled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m the Ultimate Filmmaker! Youngest person ever to win a major award at Sundance?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I don’t really pay attention to that sort of thing. I don’t have a lot of time to watch movies.” Dylan wasn’t sure if Shaddastra was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> excited about her achievements, or actively full of herself, but either way it made him wary. “Actually, I’m an Ultimate, too. The Ultimate Medium. I tend to be travelling too much to have time for movies or TV.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you’re an Ultimate too?” Shaddastra put the camera back up and fidgeted with the controls, pointing it right at his face, even taking a few steps towards him. “Weird. Maybe someone is collecting Ultimates or something? That’s kinda cool! Fucked up, but cool.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dylan shrugged. “I guess... maybe? I dunno why they would do that, though. And why just us two?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Shaddastra’s eyes lit up. “Maybe there are more of us. There’s sixteen doors here and all of them are locked. That’s an entire incoming class of Ultimates!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He frowned and poked his head out into the hall to have a look around. She was right that there were an awful lot of doors. “Was my door locked?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Sure was, yeah. Probably like a hotel door, locked on the outside and open from the inside. My room had a key card on the desk, doesn’t this one?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dylan looked over at the desk and picked up his key card. “Oh, right, yeah. I guess it does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hey, can I ask you a question? Why is there snow in here?” She gestured at the mostly melted slush on his rug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The window was open when I woke up.” He replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I dunno why.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oooh, the plot thickens!” Shaddastra grinned and went to check out the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Dylan sighed. “Hey, would you mind if I closed the door on you in here? To check if the room really is soundproof?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She whirled to glare at him. “Like hell I’m letting a stranger shut me in a room after waking up in mysterious circumstances! Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie before?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Uh. Sorry.” Dylan made a face. “I didn’t think of it like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Shaddastra nodded. “If you want to get out of here alive, you should follow me. Horror is one of my favorite genres. I know how to navigate this sort of thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He started to ask why making fictional horror movies would be helpful in a real life kidnapping, but decided against it. She seemed pretty fierce about this. “Alright, what should we do next?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She headed toward him and the door. “There doesn’t seem to be anything in here. There’s a set of double doors just down the hall there. Let’s hit those and see where they lead! They’re the only open doors, anyway, and it doesn’t look like they go to nothing but a bunch more hotel rooms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Dylan peered in the direction Shaddastra indicated. Through the glass windows of the double doors in question, he could see a wider hall with benches against the walls and a few doors on either side. At minimum, it looked a lot more inviting than his room or the narrow hallway outside of it. “Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaddastra nodded, and the two of them headed out of Dylan’s room and down through the double doors. Just as the two were peering into a room full of couches, a cheerful sound echoed throughout the whole building. It sounded like the chime of an announcement through an intercom system.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What the hell?” Shaddastra muttered, looking up for some sign of speakers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahem. This is an important announcement from your school principal!” Squeaking over the sound system, sure enough they heard an announcement being made, the voice delivering it bafflingly high-pitched yet somehow ominous at the same time. “To start off this </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ultimate School Trip</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you must all come to the lobby immediately, please!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Come Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>POVs: Alice and Osamu</p><p>The students gather and meet the Receptionist, who's helping to gather the students for their Glorious Headmaster's announcement. Seems like a few are still missing, though...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Alice Calaway, the Ultimate Undertaker</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alice had already found her way to the lobby when the odd announcement played through speakers she hadn’t previously noticed.  As it was on the exact opposite end of the part of the building that she could access, the lobby had been the logical endpoint of her investigation. There was a door on each wall, three locked and the fourth one, that she’d come in through, open. She sat with her back to one, facing the only open door, so that she could see whoever entered as they came.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She assumed there </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> be others. An announcement like that announcement wouldn’t make much sense if it were just for her, even if she wasn’t already in the lobby. If this was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>class</span>
  </em>
  <span> trip, like it had said, she guessed that meant there would be classmates joining her soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the meantime, Alice took a moment to survey her surroundings in a little more detail. The lobby was large and comfortable, with a pair of large circular benches, each one ringed around an enclosed fire pit. What she had to assume was the check in counter served as the room’s focal points along with the twin fire pits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She found that they warmed the room nicely. Wherever she was, they seemed to like their fireplaces, she had noticed. Almost every room she’d checked had one. Alice wasn’t sure whether that was a sign that they didn’t have proper central heating or that they had to limit their power usage, but she couldn’t deny that, even with the situation as grim as it appeared, the fires in each room gave off a cheery warmth that made things feel a little less dire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took almost no time at all before people started to arrive. A brown haired girl in a very elaborate leotard and an eccentric looking boy with black and purple hair with a guitar slung over his shoulder were the first to enter. The boy smiled at her and approached in a surprisingly casual manner, while the girl seemed more hesitant, looking around the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Are you the one who called us?” The girl asked in a thick but melodic accent. Russian, Alice thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Her strange companion nodded. “Can you tell us what the hell is going on here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I don’t know any more than you do. I got here first, that’s all.” Alice told them apologetically, smoothing her sensible black skirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He sighed and sat down on the other bench. “I should’ve known it wouldn’t be this easy. But hey! It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dracon.” He flashed her what seemed like a very practiced smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Zasha.” The girl said, her tone bright, but her smile equally as practiced as Dracon’s. She decided to take a seat next to Alice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I’m Alice. Can I... ask an odd question? Where did you get the guitar?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this?” Dracon grinned. “It’s mine. I guess it came with me, however I ended up here in the first place. Zash’ and I were thinking... maybe crazy fans brought us here? She’s a figure skater, and I’m the lead guitar in a band. Lights Fall Low, maybe you know us. But what about you? Got any crazy fans?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. “No, I’m an undertaker. We don’t exactly wind up with groupies.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>an</span>
  </em>
  <span> undertaker or </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> Undertaker?” Everyone jumped as a new girl stepped into the room, a determined grin on her face that rubbed Alice the wrong way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow, it seemed like everyone was turning up in pairs of two, so far. And with one boy, one girl, each as well. This newcomer was with someone as well, a pale boy in dark clothes, who waved awkwardly. She didn’t wait for a reply before continuing on, “Dylan and I? We’re Ultimates. What about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> three?”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Osamu Fujino, Ultimate Snake Charmer</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu quietly stroked the snake tucked away inside his sleeve and listened intently to the growing crowd of fellow Ultimates. Takumi was the most skittish of his snakes, and he wanted to do what he could to keep her calm. Umeko was still comfortably draped around his neck, hidden by the collar of his shirt, and Oshime had coiled up to nap in his pocket. He didn’t generally like going out with all three of them for fear of spooking people, but he didn’t want to leave them alone in a potentially dangerous environment, so he’d make do with keeping them hidden.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was surprised that no one had noticed him yet, seated behind the check-in counter, but he had to appreciate the opportunity it gave him to learn about the others before revealing himself. Trusting anyone enough to casually chat with them after waking up under such mysterious circumstances just seemed bizarre to him. He was used to trusting no one but himself, his father, and his animals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’ve been called the Ultimate Guitarist.” the one with the guitar and the beautiful accent, Dracon, told the others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The Russian girl, Zasha, nodded. “I was just picked as the Ultimate Figure Skater.” She said proudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Alice, the quiet, thoughtful girl Osamu had been watching the longest, nodded. “I am the Ultimate Undertaker, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>One of the newcomers, a girl with multicolored hair, smirked at all of them. “I’m Shadastra Middleditch, the Ultimate Filmmaker. This is Dylan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The quiet boy with her waved a bit nervously. “And, um, I’m...I’m the Ultimate Medium.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu could see Alice going stiff even from afar. “I thought Ultimates were only for </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> talents?” She asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Osamu wasn’t sure he believed in mediums either, but this seemed very rude to him. The others seemed to agree. Dracon shook his head. “I’d think a chick who works with dead people would be less skeptical. There’s some weeeeiiird shit out there in the world.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are many things unexplained by science.” Alice agreed tensely, clutching something she seemed to be wearing around her neck. “But mediums are con artists. Exploiting grieving families to make a quick buck, with no concept of the sacredness of the spirit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I… don’t actually get paid for what I do, most of the time.” Dylan replied sheepishly. “It’s not like that. I just… have an ability and people s-seem to... need me to use it. That’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Alice scowled at him and turned away, obviously unconvinced. Osamu shrank back a bit into his hiding spot, worried the situation might grow even more tense, but it seemed whoever was running things here had other ideas. Just as it looked as though the argument might escalate, a cluster of other teenagers showed up, all of them led by… a robotic woman?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite clearly being mechanical, she wore an actual, sharp looking uniform dress like Osamu might have expected to find at a maid cafe. Poking out the top of a fake, metal hairdo, the robot woman also had a pair of cat ears which were actually moving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of this almost made her look like a normal human woman, except that where normal human limbs and skin would be, there was painted metal or plastic, with clearly mechanical joints in the elbows and legs that seemed to be wearing roller skates until you realized that she was rolling along without moving them at all.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right this way, everyone! I know you’re all </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> confused, but the Headmaster will be here any minute now to explain everything!” She announced in a bright, cheerful voice that sounded surprisingly human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her group of seven students appeared totally unconvinced, however, and Osamu couldn’t say he blamed them. Being gathered together by a weird robotic catgirl to meet a mysterious ‘headmaster’ was not at all reassuring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who exactly is this headmaster?” One of the seven newcomers asked. He was a thin Korean boy, wearing a finely tailored suit, his blonde undercut pulled up into a ponytail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The robot swiveled towards him, face shifting into a mechanical facsimile of a smile. “Why, your Glorious Headmaster Monokuma, of course! In charge of the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Youth. Your school?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The suited boy frowned at her. “I have not started at the Academy yet, and I doubt I am the only one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Please hang in there. The Librarian is gathering the last few students and then your Glorious Headmaster will answer all of your questions!” The robot replied in the same perky tone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And who, exactly, are you?” One of the biggest guys Osamu had ever seen asked from the back of the group. He was at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a thick, heavily muscled frame that could be seen underneath his white button down. One hand rested on a seemingly empty pouch on his hip that reminded Osamu alarmingly of gun holsters in action movies. “Will you tell us that much at least?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I am the Receptionist!” She responded. It was starting to get more than a bit creepy how unwaveringly bright her voice remained. “Now, if you would please excuse me, I should take my post again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Osamu watched with alarm as she rolled right toward his hiding spot behind the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh... hello there.” She greeted him, bending down. Osamu had thrown himself haphazardly to the floor upon realizing his cover was in danger, and now looked up at the robot Receptionist, swallowing hard as everything went to hell. “You must be another of the missing students! Please join your classmates over by the fire pits. Students are not allowed behind my desk!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone in the room turned to stare at Osamu. He stood up, trying to seem casual. “I, um, w-what’s…going on, everyb...body? Uh... s-sorry...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who are you supposed to be?” Shaddastra asked with a scowl. “And why were you hiding back there like a creep?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m… Osamu. Osamu Fujino.” He sighed. “I was just… trying to figure out what was going on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop?” Asked Alice, apparently willing to rejoin the conversation, now that Dylan was no longer the focus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Aw, leave him alone!” Dracon said, waving Osamu over to sit next to him. “He’s obviously spooked. Why wouldn’t he be? This is a seriously </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span> situation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>One of the girls who had arrived with the Receptionist, a tall, pale girl with tattoos across her shaved head and bright green facial jewelry stepped forward worriedly. “In this sort of situation, it isn’t fair to judge people for hiding away!” She scolded Shadastra in a warm, high pitched voice that seemed incongruous with the intimidating body mods- at least until he noticed that her tattoos were hearts and stars, and her clothes and jewelry were bright and cheerful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Osamu hesitantly made his way to where Dracon was seated, deciding that doing so would be marginally safer. Quickly, The pale girl quickly joined them. All the commotion had disturbed Takumi, who peeked out from his sleeve anxiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Whoa, is that a snake?” Dracon asked excitedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I… yeah.” Osamu would never trust someone so easily on his own merits, but it was harder to dislike someone who liked snakes. “I’m the Ultimate Snake Charmer. It’s my thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> cool.” Dracon responded, leaning in to get a better look at the reptile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite Dracon’s excitement, Osamu noticed a couple of the others shifting away from him and sighed, tugging his sleeve back down over the curious snake. “Sorry, I’ll introduce you later. Now’s not really the time for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>Dracon nodded regretfully. “Later, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m so sorry about the rest of the group.” The pale girl told Osamu, “We’re all under a lot of stress. It’s easy to let one little thing get disproportionately scary. Your snake is cute, though!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Osamu smiled gratefully up at her. “Thank you. I know we’re all spooked right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m Kumi, by the way, Kumi Ichikawa! The Ultimate Caregiver!” She beamed with pride at both boys and reached into a bag slung across her waist. Kumi retrieved two granola bars, and insistently shoved one into each of their hands. “So, if there’s anything you need to feel more comfortable, let me know! All of us have a better chance of getting through whatever is going on here if we can keep calm and stick together.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this one is slightly late, folks! I haven’t been feeling great lately so it took a little longer to write than usual. Should be back on schedule from here on out though! (Possibly even early, but don’t hold me to that). I’m having a lot of fun with all of your excellent characters and I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I’m enjoying writing them!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Beware the Librarian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Librarian retrieves the last three students and the Headmaster arrives!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I would like to apologize profusely for the super super late chapter. The past month and a half has been a nightmare mess of personal catastrophes.  I'm super glad to be back to this story and I hope to get back to a regular posting schedule now that life has settled down. Thank you all for bearing with me, and I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Anna Watanabe, Ultimate Game Designer</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anna knew a game when she saw one. She didn’t yet know what the rules were, or the win condition. Waking up in an unfamiliar place, however, with no clues, no instructions, and no guards, made it obvious to her that this must be some sort of game. A simple kidnapping for money or revenge would involve locked doors, guards, and instructions. Her captors would gain nothing, letting her wander freely about, where she could potentially discover all kinds of incriminating evidence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which meant that her being allowed to wander must have served a purpose to her kidnappers. Anna felt certain that she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to explore, and there were plenty of places to do so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Initially, she found fifteen locked doors that she suspected lead to rooms like her own. Another five doors, further down the hallway, opened into various generic rooms of the kind she’d expect from the sort of resort this seemed to be- a lounge, a dining area, a lobby, etc. Four locked doors in tantalizing places suggested outer doors and staircases to other parts of the building, and, completing her investigation as she returned to her starting room to consider her next move, Anna was surprised to discover that her window was unlocked.  She supposed that was most likely due to the impenetrable storm apparently raging outside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her initial plan was to examine the four locked doors, which greatly intrigued her, but the unfortunate timing of the announcement made that impossible. If the game was any good, she would be able to learn far more about it by disobeying a rule than she would in obeying it. Since all of the locked doors were positioned in or directly next to the designated meeting place, they would have to wait. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other open rooms would have to wait for the same reason- they were along the hall leading to the meeting area, where she could be easily spotted and towed in with all the rest. If her suspicions about the fifteen other doors were correct, that made them least promising of all, meaning the only logical choice was the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anna was dressed well for the weather, in her bright green wool sweater and fleece tights underneath a long skirt. She’d experienced far worse every winter at home in Sweden, anyway, and so she didn’t hesitate to slip through her window and out into the snow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fierce wind blew against her, stinging her eyes and making it hard to see, but she found the snow was only a foot deep. The blizzard, then, had started somewhat recently. She wondered if this place had been chosen for the blizzard, or if it was only a side effect of choosing what she had deduced was actually a ski lodge for the game. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring the storm, she pulled her notebook from her sweater pocket, and wrote that question down below her notes from her previous exploration. She found that when doing something important, it was best to write everything down, no matter how trivial or obvious. This was why she’d invested in a waterproof notebook, to ensure nothing could prevent note taking. Anna Watanabe wouldn’t let such a simple mistake bring her down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Notebook in hand, ready to record anything else of interest, she moved first to inspect the wall she’d only barely been able to see through the storm. It was, she guessed, around ten feet from her window, and at least fifteen feet tall. Made of flat stone bricks, there were no convenient gaps or lumps to make climbing possible. If she could find the supplies, she might be able to make a grappling hook to scale it, but she herself was not skilled enough at climbing to try it except as a last resort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Glancing left and right, she thought she could see a corner to her right, so she followed the barrier wall to her left, one hand trailing along the surface so she would not get lost. She could still see the building to her left, but there was no use being careless during a blizzard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she reached the corner where the wing she’d woken up in connected to the main hallway, she had a choice to make. Continuing on, the distance between the lodge and the perimeter wall widened considerably. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anna wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to see the building through the storm if she continued, but she might learn some </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>useful information about the grounds if she went on. Shadows up ahead twisted in the wind, obscured by the storm, suggesting something that seemed worth checking out. Other than the wall, the dark shapes in the snow were the first sign of… well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything that </span>
  </em>
  <span>she’d seen outside of the building so far.  Anna felt certain that it would be a mistake to turn back now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a moment’s thought, she crossed over to the building to continue on, hand trailing along its outer wall to ensure she would be able to get back inside quickly if necessary. The mysterious shadows were much closer to the building than to the perimeter wall. Anna had barely turned the corner before she managed to identify what they were properly- a set of chairs around a fire pit. No one would want to sit in the chairs in this kind of storm, and the fire was not lit, but their existence implied there was definitely a door somewhere that would lead out to them. Whoever had put them here wouldn’t have done so if they expected anyone to have to climb in and out of windows to use them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anna kept walking, looking for the door, but something grabbed her arm from behind. She whirled, careful to keep contact with the wall, and found herself face to face with… something very strange. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing gripping her arm was not a hand, but a tentacle, attached to a figure several feet away, difficult to see clearly through the storm. As far as she could tell, the figure was some kind of robotic humanoid, with eight tentacles sprouting in a ring around the shoulders roughly where a human being’s arms should have been. Though it was hard to tell, the thing didn’t have much of a face, only a pair of eyes on a blank panel, black on one side and white on the other. For a moment, Anna wondered wildly if she had dramatically misunderstood the nature of the game. A tentacled robot didn’t lend itself to many scenarios and the only ones she could imagine were truly unpleasant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Watanabe, you are in violation of school rules.” The robot said in a flat voice that managed to sound angry despite its dry monotone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“School? What school?” Anna asked, frowning. “I never enrolled here, how can I break school rules for a school I’m not enrolled in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The robot ignored her questions. “As this is your first offence and the first day of school I am not permitted to shoot you on sight, provided you cooperate and come with me immediately.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Shoot me?” Anna asked, half curios, half challenging. It was something of a risk, she knew, but if she could at least get the robot to prove whether or not it was actually armed, that would be valuable information.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could not have predicted the horrifying response. The robot’s head and shoulders folded backwards on a hinge along the spine, metal clanking against metal, revealing a huge maw lined with rows of rotating teeth around the interior of what had been its chest, shoulders and back. Anna didn’t have to touch them to know they were razor sharp. Bits of metal and wire shifted and whirred around the monster’s horrifying inner workings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Four tentacles reached out and grabbed her, lifting her into the air, while four more shifted, the tips of each one opening up like flower petals to reveal worryingly large gun barrels. It pointed every last one of them at Anna.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I do not tolerate rule breaking students.” The robot told her, and she thought she could hear a note of delight in its voice. “Will you come with me, or will I have the supreme pleasure of making an example out of you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anna swallowed. “I’ll go with you.” She agreed. There was nothing to be gained from her own death, after all. If her captors were willing to threaten her so dramatically, that alone was enough useful information for the time being.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well, Miss Watanabe.” Anna noticed, for the first time, that her horrifying robotic babysitter had a feminine voice. “Let us go find your fellow disobedient classmates.” She put Anna back on the ground with a sigh, though did not entirely relinquish her grip on her arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Ryuushin Hiikari - Ultimate Artist</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryuu wished they could say that they had stayed in their room deliberately, out of defiance or distrust, but the reality was much less impressive. Waking up in an unfamiliar room with no window and a locked door, Ryuu had panicked, stumbling over to sit in the chair in the corner of the room. They tried to slow their breathing down until it was possible to see properly again, although walking steadily still remained out of the question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This would have probably worked very well, if not for the appearance of a bizarre, mechanical  woman with features like an octopus.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mx. Hiikari, you are in violation of school rules.” The octopus woman announced firmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wh-what?” They squeaked, barely able to raise their voice above a whisper, as the edges of their vision began fading to black yet again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryuu noticed, then, that the octopus woman had apparently towed someone else into the room behind her. Crossing her arms over her chest was a very annoyed looking Japanese girl, covered in snow, with purple streaks in her hair similar to Ryuu’s own bangs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryuu’s immediate impression was that they must’ve freaked out so hard they were hallucinating, but one of the robot’s tentacles wrapped around their wrist, and the cold steel against their skin made it clear that all of this was very real.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… school rules?” Putting their head between their knees, the Ultimate Artist took a few shuddering breaths, trying to pull themselves together enough to deal with this new threat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The actual human girl sighed. “The kid is obviously having a panic attack.” She told the octopus.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryuu heard a strange whirring noise, like the zoom on a camera adjusting slightly. “Very well. Under the circumstances, no punishment will be inflicted. Mx Hiikari, can you walk, or do you need to be carried?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This surprisingly mundane conversion between the robot and the woman helped ground Ryuu, and they managed to shake their head in reply. “I can walk. If you could give me... just a moment?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Another clicking sound emerged from within the octopus, and Ryuu somehow felt sure that this was an indication of annoyance. “You have exactly one hundred and twenty seconds.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Thank you.” Ryuu replied weakly, taking a few more deep breaths.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Who are you, anyway?” The Japanese woman blurted, pulling out a notebook and pen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m… Ryuu. Ryuushin Hiikari.” A couple more deep breaths, and their vision was more or less back to normal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hiikari, Hiikari...oh! As in the artist?” She inquired. “Aren’t you the one that did the illustrations for my card game last year? Snow and Sand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mention of their work, and the revelation that the two of them shared a connection to each other, helped to snap them out of their panic a bit more. “Yeah, that was me. That must make you… Watanabe, wasn’t it?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Anna is fine.” She smiled at them. “Didn’t you get picked for Ultimate Artist not long after that? That would make us both Ultimates, which is interesting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did.” Ryuu sighed. “But if that’s what got me here, I wish they’d picked someone else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anna frowned and turned to the robot. “Hey, are we here because we’re Ultimates?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another annoyed click. “Your questions will all be answered by the Headmaster as soon as you have joined your fellow students in the lobby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What good even are you, other than threatening to murder children?” Anna spat back at her,  scowling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am the Librarian.” The robot replied. “My job is to manage all supplies at the Academy and to discipline rule breakers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But there...</span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> no library.” Anna insisted skeptically. Ryuu didn’t know why she was so persistent about needling the robot, but she seemed to know what she was doing, so they didn’t stop her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is upstairs. You are not allowed access until you have proven yourselves.” The Librarian explained cryptically, then tugged Ryuu to their feet, holding them up uncomfortably by the shoulder until she was sure they were standing on their own. Now, if you are well enough to converse with your classmates, you are well enough to join the others. Right this way to the lobby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Jacky Dietz- Ultimate Football/Soccer Player</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jacky wasn’t late on purpose. He didn’t really understand what was going on, but he was inclined to follow instructions unless they seemed obviously harmful, since cooperation was said to be safest for someone who had been kidnapped. And he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> this was a kidnapping.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, he really didn’t mean to be late getting to the lobby, but somewhere along the way there… he got lost. Jacky didn’t have a particularly good sense of direction in the first place, but he didn’t think he had a bad one, either. Something about the winding corridors with so many doors just got him hopelessly turned around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, although he would never have admitted to it, he wasn’t entirely sure what room counted as a lobby. One of the largest rooms, with a set of comfortable couches and tables, seemed like it might have been a lobby. Nobody ever showed up, though, and it was empty when he got there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jacky tried the room across the hall from that one next, but found nothing except for two long tables and some very big windows. Through one of the windows, he did manage to catch a glimpse of a Japanese girl with purple streaks in her hair wandering around in the storm with a notebook for some reason.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jacky was reasonably certain that the room with the washing machines and the storage room were </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the lobby, but that only left him with the small rooms with the beds, or the room with weird circular benches all over the place. By the time he made his way back to the room with the benches, however… it seemed to be locked. Only the small rooms were left, and those couldn’t possibly be a ‘lobby’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, he sat down on a bench in the hallway, situated between the storage room and the locked room with the benches and frowned at the door. Maybe he was supposed to wait to be let in? That wouldn’t be the weirdest thing in the world. There were plenty of times, plenty of places, where classrooms or locker rooms were locked until a teacher or coach showed up to open them. If he’d missed when the main group was let in, it might even explain why he couldn’t find anyone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Should he knock? Jacky stood up and moved to do so, but hesitated. If he really </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>late and no one had noticed, it might still be possible for him to sneak into the room and ask someone else what was going on later. If he was late and they </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> notice him coming in, he might be in trouble. Maybe, he figured, it would be better for him to find a place to lie low?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Considering where to hide, Jacky paced around the hall a few times, only to be interrupted by the strangest looking trio he’d ever seen coming around the corner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To one side, he recognized the girl with the purple streaks in her hair from before. Somehow, there was still snow on her sweater, he noticed. On the opposite side was a kid Jacky had never seen before, with brown hair and purple bangs, wearing a black hoodie and jeans that did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> seem sufficient for the weather. He wondered whether it meant anything that both of them had purple hair, but focusing on anything other than the figure between them both was impossible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She… at least he thought it was a she? ... was tall, made even taller looking by the stern black dress hanging off her, all angles and lines with absolutely no curves to speak of. But ‘wearing a dress’ was where her resemblance to other humans began and ended. For one thing, she had tentacles instead of arms, each coming to a point that was segmented like the petals of a flower bud. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For another, she was clearly a robot, the main body of the tentacles made of what looked like some sort of wire mesh welded to a brass panel around her shoulder, while all of her visible ‘skin’ looked like it was made of glossy plastic. She didn’t even have a face, just a pair of glowing red eyes set in the front of an egg-shaped dome where most people had normal heads. Split vertically down the middle, her blank ‘face’ was, for some reason, half black, half white. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jacky was no biologist, but he was pretty sure there weren’t any squid or octopi or </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> that looked like that, and the coloration seemed like a really, really weird choice. She had a tentacle wrapped around each of her human companions’ arms, and he stumbled back a bit to prevent one from grabbing him too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh… Hi?” He said, trying to play it casual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Dietz. You are in violation of school rules. You should be inside the lobby, not next to it.” The robot explained coldly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Right, right, I knew that, it’s just, I… sorry, the door was locked when I got here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of the robot’s tentacles extended nearly ten feet and twisted around Jacky so that it could reach the doorknob, giving it an experimental twist. “Ah, I see. The Receptionist must have locked it. Not to worry”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Jacky watched in fascination as the segments of the ‘flower petal’ which composed the tentacle opened up to reveal a key inside, seemingly a part of the robot itself. She unlocked the door, then retracted the key through weird internal machinery, closing it up so that she could use her hand to open the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Inside, Mr. Dietz, Miss Watanabe, Mx Hiikari.” The robot ordered firmly, shoving the two in her grasp toward the doorway. “Hurry. You are already late.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Jacky didn’t need to be told twice. He rushed into the room he now knew was the lobby, joining a crowd of other students, and glanced at the other two stragglers following him in. There weren’t many seats left around the room, so he squished in next to a thin, brown haired girl with wide green eyes. “Sorry, excuse me. There’s not much room left, do you mind?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl turned to stare at him, then shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” She told him in a quiet voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, good. I’m Jacky, by the way! Jacky Dietz. It’s nice to meet you...I think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-Yuri.” She looked down at her feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He eyed her curiously, noting that she was dressed in a black leotard with tights, nothing but a thin looking hoodie over it. “Are you a dancer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am, yeah. I do ballet.” She murmured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jacky grinned. “Oh wow, that’s really incredible! I love dance. Always wanted to do that instead of football.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Yuri flashed him a nervous smile, an expression he wasn’t quite sure was a positive one, and Jacky worried that he had offended her somehow. Just as he opened his mouth to reassure the wiry girl, however, a pair of double doors at the back of the room swung open with a loud bang. Looming in the doorway, a large teddy bear smirked brightly at the assembled students, the fuzzy face painted over with an enormous grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how it was possible for a teddy bear to look so sinister, or for it to walk on its own, but Jacky did know that he recognized the pattern of the colors on that face...half black, and half white.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Assembly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Headmaster Monokuma hosts an assembly for the Ultimate Students</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Yuri Sato, the Ultimate Dancer</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri was used to rules and routine. Ever since she was a small child, her life had fallen into a reliable pattern. Wake up at 5 AM, practice for an hour, shower, eat, go to school, go to dance practice, come home and eat while doing homework, go to bed. Repeat. There had never been room for anything else in her life, but if you’d asked her a few days ago, she would have explained this routine was just a side effect of her life, not something she cared about. To be the Ultimate Dancer, one had to have a strictly disciplined life, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet now she had no idea what to do without it. Yuri couldn’t remember the last time she’d even woken up without her alarm clock, and while the circumstances were dire, she mostly felt lost and uncertain what to do. There was a strange sort of relief in being told what to do by the ominous announcement, and by the robotic catgirl who retrieved her from her room. It wasn’t the usual routine, but at least she had some kind of guidance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With instructions, she could get through anything. Including the shock of the most beautiful boy she’d ever met sitting next to her and praising her for being a dancer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Welcome, welcome all of you to the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Youngster’s winter trip! Thank you all for coming, it’s good to see your class getting along like this,” the teddy bear said, gesturing grandly at all of them. “I am, of course, Headmaster Monokuma. I am here to make sure you kids all play nice and follow the rules.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri shifted uncertainly in her seat, glancing around the room to see if anyone seemed to understand what was going on. She carefully did not, however, look at the boy sitting next to her. If she looked at him right now, she would not pay attention to the teddy bear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First, I would like to introduce you all to the staff here, all of whom are tasked with keeping you all safe and taken care of,” ‘Headmaster Monokuma’ gestured, and four robots stepped forward to join him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>One, the catgirl who had brought her to the lobby, she had seen up close already. Another, the terrifying tentacled one on Monokuma’s right, she had caught a glimpse of as she’d brought the last few kids to the lobby. The other two she hadn’t seen before they stepped out to join him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most of you have already met the Receptionist,” Monokuma said, gesturing to the catgirl, who was on his left side. “She will help you find anything you need to find, and will assist you with settling in here at the lodge.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He gestured past her to a robot in a sturdy looking green jumpsuit. She, like the receptionist, had a robotic facsimile of a human face. Unlike the receptionist’s bland smile, this one seemed to be eyeing their group curiously. She also had fuzzy ears sticking out of her sculpted plastic hair, as well as a thick fuzzy tail that she held upright, like a squirrel’s. “This is the Mechanic. If anything here breaks down or needs repairs, she will fix it up good as new.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After waiting for a moment, Monokuma gestured to the robot in shorts and a t-shirt, grinning at them all and absently stroking her long fluffy raccoon tail. She still had plastic hair and limbs, but somehow seemed much more human than the others, with a genuine glint of mischief in her eyes. “This is the Custodian. She is responsible for cleaning all of the common areas. You’ll still have to clean your own rooms, but any shared areas will be her responsibility. I wouldn’t abuse the privilege, if I were you. She’s creative when it comes to getting back at people who make big messes and don’t help clean them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Last, he gestured to the tentacled robot on his left. “A few of you have met the Librarian. Her responsibility is to make sure all of our supplies are kept organized and tidy, as well as to punish anyone who breaks the rules.” He paused for a moment, as the Librarian’s head and shoulders folded backward revealing a horrifying maw of spinning teeth, the tips of her tentacles unfurling to all reveal gun barrels. “As you can see, she takes a harsh view on the matter. Best not to risk her judgement.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri noticed several of the others recoiling in horror, and she couldn’t blame them. Years of training her body to do exactly what she wanted it to do and nothing else kept her from cringing, but it didn’t stop the cold fear that might’ve accompanied such a shudder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Monokuma giggled. “Yes, exactly. We’re all here for a fun school trip, but you’ll have to follow the ruuuuules~ Nothing would ever get done without rules to help guide progress.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She theoretically agreed with that, but it gave Yuri the creeps to hear it coming from such a sinister source.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Mamoru Terajima, the Ultimate Bodyguard</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mamoru was used to danger. As the Ultimate Bodyguard it was his job to look at dangerous, difficult situations and find a way to keep people safe. He took that role seriously and took pride in his own unflappability. He had faced down dangers that had sent men several times his age, with more experience and training, running in fear, and he would keep on doing it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had not, however, even heard of anyone being menaced by a robotic bear and his equally robotic minions. This was not something he had prepared for, he had never studied a technique for it in books nor with his trainers. There were no known mass kidnappings orchestrated by someone who manifested through odd robotic minions. It was tempting to consider cold cases and wonder if they had been committed by the same unknown perpetrator, but Mamoru was not a police officer, he was a bodyguard. All he had to do was study the situation in front of him and discern how to keep everyone here safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To do that, he had to focus closely on the presentation being given and not allow his attention to wander. The details of each of the robots were important, particularly the Librarian. He could not tell how fast she could move in a combat situation, but he knew guns well enough to know what kind of bullets hers would use and how many of them would likely be shot before she would have to reload. Furthermore, she would only attack if they broke a ‘school rule’, which he considered a much more promising bit of information.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, rules mean nothing if you don’t know what they are~” The bear- ‘Headmaster Monokuma’ - continued, while Mamoru continued to listen intently. He saw the girl to his left taking notes and nodded respectfully to her. If he’d had a notepad, he would do the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Firstly, deliberately attempting to harm or damage myself or any other member of staff is strictly forbidden. We can’t have any of you trying to interfere with us to prevent us from enforcing the other rules, now can we?” Monokuma stared around the room, as if waiting for someone to argue. No one did. They were all too cowed by the situation. Mamoru was glad for that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a moment, Monokuma nodded. “Rule 2- Similarly, deliberately attempting to damage or deface school property is forbidden. That includes trying to force your way through locked doors or windows, any form of graffiti, or sabotaging school facilities to make them unusable by your fellow students.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mamoru was a little startled by how reasonable the rules were so far. Obviously being banned from attacking their kidnappers was not ideal, but he had expected rules that would be harder to follow, to trick them into getting themselves killed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me, sir.” The sleek haired guy in the suit asked politely, raising his hand as though they were all actually in a school.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes. Jeong Sun, isn’t it?” Monokuma replied, pointing at him. “What is your question?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded politely. “Would erasable or removable marks such as chalk be considered graffiti?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The robotic bear’s face seemed to be stuck in a smile, but somehow it was obvious that he was pleased by the question. “I’m glad to see you’re taking this seriously. No, they would not. Chalk and dry erase markers are available in the store room, just be aware of what surfaces they can and cannot be erased from.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The well dressed boy nodded again. “I will be cautious, thank you for the clarification, Headmaster.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mamoru had not gotten the impression that Jeong Sun was so obedient, but he had only spoken very briefly with him. He would have to keep an eye on this smooth talker, he was concerned the other man might be up to something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have gone to a lot of trouble to ensure you will have everything you need to thrive here,” Monokuma informed them brightly. “But, you cannot attempt to leave at any point until you have graduated. That’s rule number three. The resort is your new home for the foreseeable future, you may not attempt to leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does that mean we’re not allowed to go outside?” A new voice spoke up, not bothering to raise his hand. Mamoru glanced over to see the man in leggings and a bright red scarf speaking up. He hadn’t spoken to him at all, and Mamoru had thought he might be shy, but there was no hesitation in his voice now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You may go through any </span>
  <em>
    <span>unlocked</span>
  </em>
  <span> door or window.” Monokuma told him patiently. “But you cannot go past the outer walls. There’s a blizzard out there, it’s not safe at all to go any further than that. We’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> concerned for your safety, here. We don’t want any accidental deaths.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, of course.” The boy replied, rolling his eyes. Monokuma either didn’t notice or deliberately ignored it. Mamoru made a mental note that he didn’t seem to mind a bit of sass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No more interruptions without a raised hand,” Monokuma ordered. “This is a school, after all. It’s respectful! And, speaking of respect, rule four is that you must obey a direct order from any staff member. And that does include the order I just gave to raise your hands, to be abundantly clear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bear took a moment to look around and confirm that no hands were raised before continuing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Moving right along, rule five! The most important rule. As I’ve mentioned, in order to be allowed to leave, you must graduate. There are only two ways to graduate. You must either kill one of your fellow classmates and remain undetected through a class trial or survive enough class trials that you are one of two remaining students.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one dared interrupt due to the order, but everyone shifted uneasily in their seats, looking around suspiciously. With this one rule, Monokuma had shattered the tentative unity of their group- and with it, the odds of Mamoru getting everyone out alive. He clenched his fists tightly at his sides to keep his composure.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Kumi Ichikawa, the Ultimate Caretaker</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a long moment of silence, and Kumi felt it keenly. She knew that everyone around her must be frightened and confused by the bizarre announcement, and she felt it her personal duty to do something about it. She had to take care of them, after all.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She took a deep breath and raised one delicate hand, her vibrantly green fingernails feeling especially ostentatious in such dire circumstances. As always, she hoped that the cheery color would help raise the spirits of those around her, but she knew that under the circumstances her job would be much trickier than some bright colors and gentle smiles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Ichikawa!” Monokuma said encouragingly, for all the world like a real educator and not a terrifying robotic bear. “Go ahead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kumi smiled and stood. It felt more polite to stand up, and she suspected that this so called headmaster would appreciate such niceties. “Thank you, Headmaster Monokuma. I… was just wondering what you mean. Surely you don’t actually intend for us to kill each other? You just said you didn’t want us to leave for our own safety…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Monokuma’s half smile grew, showing a row of pointy teeth as he grinned. “I said we wanted to avoid *accidental* deaths. It would be dreadfully boring if any of you froze to death. Murder is much more exciting! We want you all to murder each other as creatively as you can. Consider it… a final exam. What better way to test your Ultimate status? A true Ultimate should be able to use their skills to take down anyone, even another Ultimate. Similarly, a true Ultimate should be able to identify lies and treachery. So, this is the Ultimate test for Ultimates.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kumi’s heart sank as Monokuma laughed. She took care of each other. That was what she did. Her Ultimate Talent was to take care of everyone. How could she do that if they were all busy killing each other? “Is there truly no other way to graduate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Monokuma shrugged, still grinning wickedly. “You’re welcome to try, provided you do not break any of the rules. But I haven’t given you all of them yet. Do you have any more stupid questions or should I continue?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kumi reddened a bit and nodded, sinking into her seat. He hadn’t outright forbidden them from attempting to find another way. She could work with that. Her mind whirled, considering the implications, but she didn’t dare let herself get too distracted from Monokuma for the moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rule six. In the event of a death not caused by staff, all students must gather to participate in a class trial. There will be an investigation period before the trial, but it ends when I say it ends.” Monokuma looked over the assembled students, then continued on. “And rule seven regards the trials themselves. During a trial, all students will have the opportunity to present evidence and debate the culprit, but at the end of the trial I will call for a vote. Every student </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> vote on who they think the culprit is. If the majority of students vote correctly, the killer will be punished. If the student body gets it wrong, all students </span>
  <em>
    <span>other than</span>
  </em>
  <span> the killer will be punished, and the killer will graduate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were several gasps in the crowd, and another hand went up. Kumi glanced over at Shaddastra, raising her hand impatiently, and smiled. It was good to see that at least some of the other students were not cowed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Monokuma sighed. “Let me guess. You want to know what ‘punishment’ is?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaddastra nodded. “Damn right I do. That was way too vague.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you know it’s rude to swear at your teachers?” Monokuma scolded, but he did not bother to forbid further rudeness, Kumi noticed. “Rule eight. Punishment for any infraction is immediate execution in whatever way is most convenient or entertaining.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room fell absolutely silent and still. Even Kumi felt a cold chill at that blithely delivered death sentence. Her smile wilted for one terrifying moment, but then she noticed the shy boy with the snakes-Osamu, was it?- glancing over at her and she straightened again, smiling reassuringly at him. She could not let this beat her down. She had a responsibility. The Ultimate Caretaker had the challenge of her life ahead of her and she would face it head on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Monokuma seemed pleased with the hush. “Don’t go testing the rules unless you’re ready to die, yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman with purple bangs who’d come in with the Librarian raised her hand deliberately, one eyebrow raised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good grief, you’re a nosy bunch,” Monokuma sighed. “What do you want, Miss Watanabe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do we know you’re not just going to go around killing us and blaming it on each other? Or hiding evidence, killing important witnesses, that sort of thing?” she asked, her swedish accent giving her voice a pleasant lilt that belied her matter of fact manner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is an </span>
  <em>
    <span>excellent</span>
  </em>
  <span> question.” Monokuma replied with another toothy grin. “And brings us directly into rule nine. All staff are forbidden from harming any student who has not broken one of the rules or from interfering with a trial or investigation in any way. Satisfied?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded in an almost regal matter and retracted her hand. “That settles the issue neatly, thank you.” Kumi allowed herself to admire her for a moment before focusing back on the matter at hand. There would be time later to look at pretty girls, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Moving along then, rule ten. I get to make new rules whenever I want, so long as they don’t contradict existing rules.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then you can kill us for breaking a rule you just made up? That’s bullshit.” Dracon burst out, then frantically stuck his hand in the air in the hope that it would count for the purposes of Monokuma’s order.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Careful, Bahamut.” Monokuma chided, his red eye glinting dangerously. “You’re coming dangerously close to breaking the rules.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dracon swallowed hard, but Kumi put a hand on his shoulder encouragingly, and he straightened a bit. “It is bullshit though. There’s nothing protecting us from you if you can make up new rules whenever you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Monokuma sighed. “Don’t you kids know anything about patience? If you’d let me get to rule eleven, I would have covered that. Any rule that I make will be announced before it takes into effect. They, along with the original twelve rules, are permanent and unchangeable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Fine. Okay.” Dracon scowled at Monokuma and put his hand down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Now, we’ve got one more rule, you think you can get through that without raising your hand again?”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>No one responded. Kumi smiled around the room encouragingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“FInally. Once I’m done here, you all need to report up here to retrieve a MonoPad from the Mechanic and Receptionist, at the desk.” He gestured  to his right, where the two of them stood behind the check in counter, unloading boxes of tablets onto it. “Once you have claimed it, it is yours. Rule twelve is, once you’ve claimed it, you cannot deliberately damage it, discard it, or allow anyone else to use it, nor may you use anyone else’s.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Monokuma paused to glare around the room for a minute, daring anyone to raise their hand. “All of the rules will be recorded in your MonoPads, as well as various other bits of useful information.  You may also use them to message each other or take pictures.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kumi smiled. This sounded like a very useful tool for her to check in with everyone and take better care of them. Normally she used her  phone to check in with people regularly, but she hadn’t anticipated having anything similar here, since her phone (and she assumed, everyone else’s) had been taken away before she woke up. This tablet would do the job nicely. She could even share cheery pictures!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Monokuma glanced over at the tablets on the desk again. “Now, if you don’t have any other questions, you may go claim a tablet and get out of here.  Keep the rules in mind, and don’t forget you’ll need to kill~” Despite his words, he didn’t bother to wait for any further questions, stepping down from the platform he’d been standing on and vanishing with an odd, cartoonish sound effect.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone looked around at each other, confusion, fear, and uncertainty on most of the faces Kumi saw. She tried to meet them all with an encouraging smile and nod, and took the opportunity to stand up and step toward the reception desk. Sometimes part of being a caretaker was setting an example and breaking the ice. The woman Monokuma had called  ‘Miss Watanabe’, Jeong Sun, and Shaddastra were right behind her, and the others followed suit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Receptionist smiled blandly at them all. “Please take the pad with your name on it, and only the one with your name. They’re all the same, the names are merely for identification purposes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The squirrelish Mechanic next to her nodded enthusiastically. “It will only unlock for the person assigned to it, there’s no point even trying to get in to anyone else’s. You just put your right index finger on the scanner pad at the bottom to unlock it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do they already have our fingerprints?” Alice asked, stepping forward to take hers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Mechanic ignored the question. “Come on, don’t be shy, they’re for you all.” She called to those lingering in the back of the crowd. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kumi shifted back to stand with them, holding her own MonoPad. “It’s okay. Do you want to see mine? I can’t hand it to you, but you can look at it in my hands.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three stragglers turned to look at her. “No, I just… don’t like crowds. I thought I’d wait for the others to clear out.” Osamu told her with a small smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t mind a look.” A quiet, pale boy in a dark hoodie that Kumi hadn’t had a chance to talk to yet ventured with a nervous smile. “I’d love to know what to expect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kumi nodded, smiling back. “Of course. Here.” She put her finger on the sensor and unlocked her MonoPad, flipping through the menu. “Do you want me to go up with you, too? I don’t mind. I’m Kumi, by the way. Kumi Ichikawa. The Ultimate Caretaker.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m… Seikatsu Shi. The Ultimate Occultist.” The pale boy replied. “This… science fiction stuff is a bit beyond me. Although I guess it’s not scifi if it’s real.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last straggler, the one who’d come in with the Librarian, nodded mutely. Kumi eyed them worriedly and concluded he’d been having an anxiety attack. She rummaged in her bag for a moment and pulled out a bottle of water and a lump of clay. “It’s okay. Here, have some water, focus on this for a minute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They nodded appreciatively and drank some water. “Thanks. This is just a lot. I’ll pull myself together soon. I just… have to adjust.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kumi nodded back. “There’s no rush. You can take the time you need. Everyone adapts at a different pace.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well… there is a bit of a rush.” Osamu pointed out nervously. “We have to figure something out before people start killing each other.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much to all of you for bearing with me while life got in the way of my writing! I love this story and am super excited to come back to it now. Barring any more catastrophes, I'm hoping to get back on my biweekly posting schedule, to get things back on track and give myself a decent schedule</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic is a Submit Your Own Ultimate, a format inspired by Submit Your Own Tribute Hunger Games fics. That said, this is 100% Danganronpa. In short, I have sixteen tribute slots that will be filled by you, the readers.  You can fill out a form I will include at the end of this note, fill it out, and drop it in the comments. I will then use your Ultimate in my killing game. </p><p>At this time, the only Ultimate talents I'm banning are: Lawyer, Detective, Assassin, and Mage. Check the most recent chapter for the current lineup to prevent duplicates, as well. </p><p>Name:<br/>Gender:<br/>Nationality (vague regions and made up countries are fine):</p><p>Ultimate Talent:<br/>Appearance:<br/>Personality:<br/>Backstory:</p><p>What would drive them to murder (don’t say nothing. Even Gonta did a murder):<br/>How would they react if framed?:</p><p>How would they react to someone they were close to committing murder:<br/>Strengths (at least three):<br/>Weaknesses (at least three):</p></blockquote></div></div>
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